Broken
by BRUCAS123
Summary: She gave up the only two boys she's ever truly loved. He left home to fix his family and forget his past-to no avail. Now, he's home. And they are going to have to figure out where they went so wrong. To make it right. BLfamily;s8;mostlycanon
1. Don't Think I Don't Think About It

**New story! Yay? Hopefully. **

**I've had this in my mind for a good, long while now. I have a lot of complaints that DLA was too fluffy and, well, this is just the opposite of fluff. Angst central. I think that, for the most part, what I'm about to do is pretty original. And completely canon. In my mind.**

**Also, T, I'm sorry. I can't fix Brooke's part. My head won't let me. :( **

**Anyway, please read. Let me know if it's worth continuing or if you think I shouldn't even try to write it. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own BL, OTH, or anything pertaining to the CW. The lyrics throughout are from a Darius Rucker song. Love it, don't own it, though.

* * *

**

_But don't think I don't think about it.__  
__Don't think I don't have regrets.__  
__Don't think it don't get to me.__  
__Between the work and the hurt and the whiskey._

When she was a child, Brooke's favorite month was August. Every August, for two weeks, her parents gave the nanny of the moment a vacation and shipped Brooke off to her great-Aunt Charlotte's house in Georgia. She was always softer than most when it came to Brooke but the best part about visiting Aunt Charlotte was the island she lived on. As she got older, it was the same reason she stopped going. The island was isolated; one of the last places in the country without broadband internet connection or cell phone towers and even in August—tourist season's peak—everything was slow going. Calm to Brooke's proverbial storm of a life. In the summer between fourth and fifth grade (the first without Mrs. Sawyer); she took Peyton with her for the company—not to keep her company, but to keep Peyton company. Peyton didn't see the draw of the slow life or of great-Aunt Charlotte's love. She hated every second of the two weeks they spent there and, so, Brooke stopped going. She couldn't very well leave her best friend in the world all alone for two weeks each summer. Especially when Mr. Sawyer started leaving for longer periods of time that summer. Peyton told her that she could go without her but she knew better. Her best friend needed her, more now than ever. She knew what it was like to go through life without any real parent. If Peyton couldn't get a reprieve from that, neither would she.

As they moved into junior high school, she began to hate August. It started a full month of not seeing her parents—not even in the passing that she was used to—because it was their vacation month. The end of August meant school. And, on top of all of that, the Tree Hill August weather was bipolar; a hundred degrees with scattered thunderstorms. Every. Single. Day. In a thirty-one day month. But as much as she grew to hate August, she never forgot the love she had for Aunt Charlotte's house and the island she always swore she'd raise her own family on.

She's heading into her twenty-seventh August and Brooke still thinks about that island every day. Except, now, when she thinks of it, she thinks about more than carefree, love-filled summer days running through the surf that was Aunt Charlotte's back yard. Now, she thinks of the family that she once vowed to raise on the island that felt more like home to her seven year old self than the mansion she (and everyone else) grew to associate herself with. She thinks about a time when her mother, who's now a permanent, even somewhat loving, fixture in her life, refused to love her and be there for her. When Aunt Charlotte flew to LA and loved her, giving her the solution to a problem that everyone else just wanted to terminate or sweep away, under the rug with any other little blemishes in the Davis closet. Well, everyone who knew—as in, her parents.

Sometimes, that same solution haunts her. She feels like she's being punished. Like maybe the attack isn't the reason she'll never have children of her own but instead, it's some kind of sick karmic justice.

And that always brings her to Lucas.

Lucas, who was the only person in her life who didn't tell her to fight it or that it'd be okay when she found out she'd never get pregnant. It surprised her how upset he was _for_ her. But, then again, he's the only one she's ever been completely honest with about how much she wants, _needs_, a family—children—of her own to raise. And even he doesn't know the full reason behind that truth. He wanted to come home and be with her for a while. He didn't tell her that—Peyton did, the next time they spoke. But her best friend in the world didn't see the need for that. As she explained to her, they have a life that they can't just pick up and leave and she feels that Brooke has more than enough support here in Tree Hill. On top of which, she let her know that having a child isn't all it's cut out to be and though she thinks she wants it more to anything, she's mistaken. To quote her, "Trust me; you do not want to be a mother, Brooke." Her feelings a few months later when Haley's mom died were similar. She didn't understand why Lucas would want her to sit through something that was just going to remind her of all that she lost in her earlier years. Haley's mom got to meet the love of her life. She got to be at her wedding and meet her grandchild. Peyton never even got that. So why should they have to go back to Tree Hill? It survived without Peyton and Brooke for so long that certainly Peyton and Lucas aren't required to be there for certain things. Life will go on.

She actually said that. And while Brooke gets that that's truly how Peyton feels, she just doesn't understand it. She would uproot her life for Peyton. She _has_. And she would have really appreciated someone like Lucas around. Someone who really understood just what this diagnosis has taken away from her. Someone who really believed in her hopes and dreams of a family. Even if that someone didn't have vital information. Even if that someone would most definitely hate her if he knew the whole story.

…even if that someone didn't love her the way she always needed him to.

And that brings her back to August. The August that Aunt Charlotte came to her in LA and did what she thought was best. Brooke agreed with her. It was better than the other choice. She, of course, offered Brooke a home, too. But Brooke needed to go home. Home to Tree Hill. Home to Peyton. Above all, home to Lucas. Because she spent that summer in a limbo that no one could ever understand, but she still wanted him. Every second. Every day. She didn't know how to have him and her secret. It was one of the hardest things she's ever had to do.

She gave up one boy and lied to another—in the end, giving him up, too. She deserved neither of them and still, she yearns for both of them. She longs for them every day. Not just in the beginning of August or during high school basketball championship season. Not just when she gets a fresh batch of pictures from New Zealand or Georgia. Her heart aches for that kind of fullness, wholeness, she only feels in their presence. Every hour.

And she's never going to have it. Because she gave it up. For them, maybe. But she did.

The trip to Georgia has never felt this long. Not even to a six year old being driven by a man she barely knew—her father—and therefore, never spoke to. She wanted to go earlier this year. She wanted to see Aunt Charlotte, maybe see about having a wedding right there in the surf of her childhood. Her mother talked her out of it. She convinced her that it would be awkward and that explaining to Julian would be too much. She didn't feel like explaining. Why should she have to so close to her wedding day? And what if Lucas and Peyton were to come to the wedding? There'd be no hiding it. No, Victoria had been right. It would have been a bad choice. Even if it's the only one she wanted to make. How was she supposed to have a wedding without the two boys she gave up, anyway? Her day would be incomplete without them. Just like all of her other days.

But now, she doesn't care about a wedding. Not right now. Now, she's never going to talk to Aunt Charlotte again. She misses their monthly chats already. Now, she has to explain to Julian. And she has to trust that he's going to understand or that she can make it if he doesn't.

Because he's hers. In every way that matters—and now, legally too. And she's going to get him. To bring him home with her, which is probably what she should have done ten Augusts ago.

But she can't think about that right now.

So, instead, she thinks about August. She thinks about Lucas. And everything and one else that she's ever loved. And hated. Sometimes, even simultaneously.

_Don't think I don't wonder 'bout,__  
__Could've been, should've been all worked out.__  
__I know what I felt, and I know what I said__,__  
__But don't think I don't think about it._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_When we make choices, we gotta live with them.__  
__Heard you found a real good man and you married him.__  
__I wonder if sometimes I cross your mind.__  
__Where would we be today__?_

They're going to be in Tree Hill in five hours. In five hours, this will all be put into perspective for him. Maybe by that time, he'll see his wife's point of view. Maybe he'll agree that this trip is stupid and impulsive. Maybe.

But he doesn't think so. Not right now.

Right now, he's all kinds of floored that Peyton isn't more concerned about Brooke. She left for Georgia in tears, for crying out loud! An eleven hour drive, Peyton said. That means she's driving eleven hours, alone, in the middle of the night, upset. And he thought she'd be safe with Julian. What a joke.

He would never have let her take that drive alone; even if he had to follow at a distance so she could be as alone as she wanted but also make sure she stayed safe. But what does Julian do? He calls Peyton to see if she can decipher what happened. Instead of talking to Brooke, he tries to figure it out without her. After about three years of dating Brooke, he still doesn't understand her when she gets upset. He still doesn't really _know_ her. What does that say about him? Lucas could read Brooke so early on that it was scary to him. But not nearly as scary as when she seemingly cut all of her emotions completely off and he wasn't able to read her anymore. So either Brooke has cut Julian out of her emotions or he's an idiot. She's not that hard to read—but only if she wants to be read.

When Peyton listened to whatever Julian was saying and then informed him that Brooke had an old aunt on an island off of Georgia and it sounded like maybe Brooke said that she died, Lucas started to book flights for him, Peyton, and Sawyer. She'd need them if she was upset enough to leave alone. Peyton, of course, had explained when Mrs. James died that Haley had Nathan and Brooke and that Quinn was home so there was no need to run to her side. And he saw her point, especially when she told him that it brought up all of those emotions about her own mothers. But this was different. Because Brooke is _Peyton's _best friend. And she doesn't have the support system that Haley has. Clearly. And she's already had one major blow this year. That they weren't there for.

That he felt guilty over.

When he decided to leave, to move Peyton and Sawyer away from home, it was all about him. It's probably one of the most selfish things he has ever done. But he really just wanted something fresh for them. A town without all of the bad memories. He should have realized that the good memories are just as important. And that the people living in that town were as much his family as his mom and Lily. And that those bad memories are the ones that follow you around and haunt you at two am. He thought if they could get somewhere without Brooke, he'd be able to forget all of the dreams he had for them. He didn't want to watch her be Aunt Brooke to Sawyer. He couldn't. It almost felt like too much for him to handle. His baby in her arms.

But it wasn't her baby. And that made him sad. And guilty for being sad.

He thought if he could get them out of Tree Hill, that maybe he'd be able to write again. Maybe Peyton would spend more time with Sawyer and less time with her aspiring artists. Oh, but he should know by now that coulda, shoulda, woulda's are just that. He still has no idea where his ability to write went. He's still his baby girl's primary caregiver—not that he's complaining. She's perfect. But her mom isn't there. Sure, she's there physically a few hours a day but she's never really _there_. Take her away from Red Bedroom Records and Mia and Haley and she'll just find other unsigned artists to champion. She's signed four unheard of bands so far to a sister label in New Zealand. She's missed the same amount of milestones in her baby's life. Her first smile, her first word—dada, her first steps, and her first tooth—plus the two weeks of unbearable teething symptoms that came with it. She always tells him that she's just doing what she was born to do and that she knows Sawyer is safe and sound at home with him. She doesn't have to worry.

He worries enough for the both of them, he supposes. He knows what it feels like—being less than number one in a parents' life. He knows how that inferior feeling and the helplessness festers into a deep-seeded anger. He knows that Peyton working isn't the same thing as Dan denying him. But it's close enough, for him. He's tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. She didn't have to have the baby and she did. She risked her life for her. Maybe that should be enough. But it's just not.

It's not.

And it's not okay that she's mad at him for needing to make sure Brooke's okay now. When it's obvious that Brooke's not okay. And, as her best friend in the world, she should care. She shouldn't be worried about missing an amazing band tomorrow night. She should be worried about whether or not Brooke's even going to make it home okay. He's definitely worried about that. And he's missing an important meeting with his new editor—via satellite—to be on this plane. Not that he has anything new to report.

He looks over at her; her eyes are closed, her iPod ear buds securely in place, and not a worry in the world, it seems. At one time, he'd have told himself that this _was_ her way of worrying. That she just had a really hard time expressing her feelings. That death is hard on her. Hell, this morning he would have at least tried to justify it. But between the fight they had as he was packing up Sawyer for the trip and her coldness since they boarded the plane, he just can't bring himself to do it.

She's not an angel. And she's definitely not _his_ angel.

His angel is asleep in his lap. His precious, beautiful baby.

Whose mom barely acknowledges her. So much so that his own mom has stopped letting him make excuses for her. She didn't need to have a mother to know how to love her child. She's been loved enough. This is clear and total avoidance. For what reason? No one knows.

Well, no one knows it's like this but him and Peyton. And his mom.

Brooke would come out and try to talk sense into Peyton and Haley would try to talk him into coming home. And it'd all just be worse than it already is. Because then Peyton would feel pressured and that's not what he wants. He wants her to _want_ to spend time with their child.

When she was a baby and they were still in Tree Hill, Peyton seemed so eager to parent. But then, at three months, she developed colic and a bad case of acid reflux. Nothing made her happy. Nothing could stop the screaming. They couldn't find the right food for her and she couldn't keep anything they gave her down. And Peyton gave up. Even now that Lucas has it mostly under control, she still hasn't come back to that early enthusiasm. She's happy just knowing that Sawyer's doing fine. Just being told by Lucas that she's doing fine, since she didn't make her first year or second year check-up. And Lucas has long since stopped feeling sorry for his wife's sense of helplessness and started to resent it.

He _never _gets a break.

Which brings his thoughts right back to Brooke. Peyton said that Julian mentioned Brooke bringing someone back with her. She said she was going to get someone. A him.

He can't understand why, if no one but Peyton even knew about this aunt, Brooke would know someone under her aunt's care enough to want to go down there and take him home. It can't be a cousin. Brooke's an only child of two only children. And Peyton remembers the aunt as being really old—too old to have a baby or even be a foster parent. Victoria is refusing to discuss it with Julian, saying only that Brooke should let sleeping dogs lie. Whatever that means. He's always hated her. She didn't even want them to come.

How could anyone have Brooke Davis as a child and be that evil? Peyton isn't being evil; she's just scared. _Hiding_. Whatever. It doesn't excuse it but at least she's not mean. He wouldn't allow that.

Sawyer rolls over in her seat and starts whimpering. It's a long plane ride for a two year old. She crawls deeper into his lap and snuggles and he smiles down at her.

They'll be in Tree Hill in a little over four hours, now. And he knows he's got a lot of drama to face when he gets there.

For now, he's just going to focus on the only girl he can comfort. For the time being, anyway.

_Don't think I don't think about it.__  
__Don't think I don't have regrets._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_Don't think I don't wonder 'bout__,__  
__Could've been, should've been all worked out._

She's coming for him. That's what the lady with Grady said.

Auntie Charlotte isn't coming back and _she_ is.

He doesn't understand at all. Just yesterday morning, they were talking about taking a ride to the aquarium next week. And now she's not even going to come get him from his best friend's house. She's just gone. They've talked about this. That one day, she might get sick. That someone else might have to come take care of him for awhile. That maybe that person would be _her_. But the angels weren't supposed to need Auntie so soon.

He didn't even get to say good-bye. She's the only person in the world who has ever loved him and she left without him telling her how much he loved her, too. He wasn't there.

Maybe he could have helped. They said it wasn't his fault, the lady and Grady, but how do they know? He might have been able to call someone faster. They don't know. And now, she's _gone_.

All of his life, she's told him about her favorite niece. About how much she loved him. About how much she wanted him. She always said that one day soon, her favorite niece, his mom, would come and see them. But she never has. Not once. And he stopped hoping for it a long time ago—he never told Aunt Charlotte that, though. Aunt Charlotte never gave up hope. She was so sure her Brookie didn't forget about her baby boy. He knew better, as the forgotten child.

But now, she has no choice but to come and get him. No one else wants him so she has to take him with her this time.

And he doesn't want to go. All in one day, he lost his only family and his home.

_He just wants to go home._

He hears the door open and looks up into a face that he's seen in pictures all of his life, though never in person. She looks as sad as he feels and he wonders if it's really all that bad that she has to finally take care of him herself.

And then she speaks. "_Ethan._"

His name. She gave it to him, Aunt Charlotte said. Of course, she'd know it but it still surprises him to hear her. He's never heard her voice. And now, she's saying his name.

Mrs. Johnson comes in and sees her there, "Ms. Davis, you're here. Your mother has been calling, pretty frantic. I know this is a hard time for your family." Brooke seems to look like she doesn't understand what the social worker is saying. "She wanted me to tell you that Lucas and Peyton are on their way to Tree Hill."

_That_ seems to hit somewhere deep inside the woman who is supposed to be his mother. She goes from white to almost see-through. He knows that this can't be good.

And then he remembers the few times he asked about his dad. Aunt Charlotte always referred to him as Brookie's love. But once, she slipped and said a name. _Lucas_.

If he didn't hate her, he'd almost feel bad for Brooke. She looks almost worse than he feels. Almost. Then, right before his eyes, she seems to pull herself together. Snap herself out of whatever it was she was feeling. Any trace of sadness or being scared is gone from her face.

She nods and then says evenly, "I assume you're the social worker I talked to last night? I'd like to just take Ethan home. Can we work out everything else at a later date?"

Mrs. Johnson looks like she doesn't approve but just shakes her head yes. "Ethan was at his friend's house last night and doesn't have any of his things. I can give you a key to your Aunt's house and fax the papers over to you. You need to sign, taking responsibility for him."

"I can't." For just a second, she's sad again and then it's gone. "I'll get him some clothes when we get home. I can't go to that house right now. I'll leave you my numbers. Of course I'm taking responsibility for him."

He's trying to figure out where she's calling home. Watching them talk about him as if he's not even there is upsetting him even more than he already was.

He doesn't think she wants to take him to _his_ home. She's taking him to _her _home.

He hates her even more than he did when she was just a person that Aunt Charlotte talked about. A person who left him.

"Ethan." She's talking to him again. "Come on, baby. It's a long drive."

She's holding her hand out to him and he knows that he has to go. But he can't take her hand. He can't touch her. So he just walks past her to the door and she must follow him.

Grady's there, telling her that he'll take care of everything until they have a chance to come back and pack it up. And then, they're leaving.

Together.

When they pass the general store, she pulls off the road and looks at him for a long time. Maybe she's trying to decide if she even wants him now that she has to take him. Maybe he already isn't good enough. _Again_.

"Listen," she starts so abruptly, that it almost scares him, "I know you don't know me. I know that's my fault. But I want to know you. I always have. I'm so sorry about Aunt Charlotte. I'm sorry about a lot of things. But I want you to know that I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to earn your love. Because I already love you. I've loved you your whole life. You're not a baby anymore but you're still mine."

She pauses and he thinks she's done and then she says, "You're my son."

She nods and pulls back onto the road, continuing the drive out of the only place he has ever known.

And all he can think is, if she _really_ loved him, she'd keep him here. Or she'd have come sooner. Or she wouldn't have given him away at all.

No, she doesn't love him. And that's good. It's fine.

Because he doesn't love her, either.

_Don't think I don't…__  
__Don't think I don't…

* * *

_

**So, this is just a prologue but I think you got the picture. I'd really like everyone's thoughts on this. Should I pursue this story? Should I delete? Should I move on and stop missing BL and old school OTH as much as I do? Should I stop **_**fanwanking**_** and creating my own canon? Should I learn not to make my ANs so long and personal?**

**Review, and let me know. Please and thanks! :)**

**xx-Cor**


	2. From Where You Are

**So, wow! Thank you all for your kind words and feedback. And thanks to those who favorited or put this on alert. :-) **

**I have another update for you all, but don't get used to this quick updating. I had a few days off of work and was able to write more than usual. I hope you all enjoy this first chapter.**

**And T—while I didn't choose one of the songs you gave me today, I am going to use a song you gave me :).(Even though it doesn't really match either. I think it's definitely BL to the core and how they're feeling.) **

**Ya'll know a little band called Lifehouse? If you don't, get on it! I'm in love with this song.**

**

* * *

**

_So far away from where you are,  
These miles have torn us worlds apart.  
And I miss you._

He checks in on Sawyer, asleep in Brooke's room, again. They've been here for over eight hours, most of which has been spent in awkward silence. Victoria's been here the whole time, hovering, but not speaking to anyone. She's just watching them. Like they're going to steal from her daughter's house or something. He wants to scream at her. Let her know that they were all there for Brooke long before she ever chose to be. But he knows that'll just make it worse so he keeps his mouth shut instead. Haley and Nathan got here a couple of hours ago. They haven't said much, either, save for a quick round of hugs. Jamie must be with one of Haley's sisters or Nathan's agent because he's not with them. Julian whispered with Peyton when they first got here and then went back to pacing. He hasn't even looked at anyone else. Lucas didn't even warrant a hello.

Not that Lucas feels like talking to Julian. He let Brooke leave for an eleven hour trip, crying. _Alone_. If he had to talk to him, he probably would yell. He's an idiot. Why Brooke's so attracted to guys who are this dumb is beyond him. It's probably his fault. He set a precedent. Since he's the biggest idiot of them all.

No. Maybe that was Owen.

But he's definitely up there. He just left her alone. He should have forced Peyton to come home sooner. She needed them. If he had just been here when she got that call. . .

But he wasn't. He can't change that fact. But he's damn sure going to be here from now on. Peyton's going to just have to deal with it.

His little girl is sound asleep in the middle of Brooke's bed, completely unaware of all of the tension filling the house.

Victoria was watching him closer than usual while she was awake. As if she could critique anyone else's parenting. But he felt like she was. And Peyton didn't even try to put on a show for anyone. She stuck to herself. After talking to Julian about Brooke's whereabouts, he assumes, she pulled out her laptop and got sucked back into her world. When Haley came in, they talked for a few minutes about Red Bedroom and then she went back to ignoring everyone. Including him and Sawyer.

When he feels like he's been watching her sleep for too long, he walks back into the living area of the beach house Brooke bought for herself and Peyton years ago. No one has really moved in the last fifteen minutes. Nathan and Haley are on the couch, hands clasped together, looking like they've lost their fair share of sleep lately. Peyton is cuddled up on a chair, eyes closed, listening to her iPod; her computer abandoned on the floor. Victoria is closest to the front door. Brooke should be here within the hour and she's been watching the door for the last half hour, like a hawk watches its prey. So she can get to Brooke before them, he supposes. Like she has to protect her daughter from them.

That's laughable.

And Brooke's fiancé is still pacing, from the kitchen to the back patio to the living room, where he asks if anyone needs anything, and back again. Julian seems as rattled as he feels so he can't be too mad at him. She hasn't called at all. They're guessing, if she went and turned right back around, she'll be here soon. If she stayed, she'd have called by now. She'd have called someone.

_Right_?

He doesn't know why, since she's barely said two words to him and he knows she's not happy with him, but he decides to sit next to Haley. Instead of the cold shoulder he expects from her, she drops her free hand onto his thigh and rubs it reassuringly.

"Is she still in the same position as she was fifteen minutes ago?" It catches him off guard that she's teasing him.

He smiles over at her, "Just a little to the right, actually. I might have to go look in on her again in a few minutes."

Haley smiles back, the first time he's seen her smile all night, "Luke, she's gorgeous, if I haven't said that yet. And you're a great dad. But checking on her every fifteen minutes isn't gonna make Brooke show up any quicker. And we're already dealing with one pacer, okay?"

He nods. He knows. But it's the only thing keeping him sane. "Do you think she's okay?"

The girl they're talking about is different now and Haley seems to feel the shift. She takes her time responding and is much more serious when she finally speaks. "I think this is Brooke Davis we're talking about, here. It takes a lot for her not to be okay. She'll come home and if she's not okay, we'll rally around her until she is. God knows, she's been there for me."

"About that, Hales…" he starts to apologize.

Nathan turns to hear what he's about to say as Haley shakes her head. She pats his hand and says, "Not now, Lucas. Just… you're here now. That's what matters."

His brother seems to take that as his cue that they can be brothers again because he smiles over Haley's head. "As a matter of fact, we have some news that will be nice to share in person."

Their smiles tell the story and he doesn't even need to hear it to know what they're about to say. "I'm pregnant!"

He pulls Haley into a big hug, "I'm an uncle again, huh?"

"How 'bout you try and stick around for a while, Uncle Lucas?" Nathan says to him, "You have a family here who needs you, too."

He nods and turns to look at Peyton, to see if she's hearing this. He'd have been back last year, if it were up to him. If she's listening, her face betrays nothing. Her eyes are still closed and she actually looks peaceful. He turns back to his brother and sister-in-law and promises, "I'm back for good. I just decided it's time."

As he says that, he hears a car door shut out front, a pause, and then another door. Victoria is the first one at the door, opening it, but he's right behind her with everyone else right behind him. Brooke appears on the porch, looking like a sight for sore eyes and he breathes a sigh of relief. She's holding a child, who is almost as tall as her. And he immediately reaches out to relieve her, without thinking, whispering, "Here, let me help you."

Instead of taking the help, she flinches back from him and covers the little boy's cheek with her hand. "I've got him. Just, he just fell asleep. If I can just get through here..."

The crowd backs off and Lucas locks eyes with her. She looks tired and those beautiful hazel eyes are pleading with him not to challenge her right now. So he steps back, letting her through, and then follows her all the way through the living area to the spare bedroom, where he opens the door for her and watches her lay him down on the single bed. She stands there for a minute, just looking at the sleeping child. She's sad; it's all over her face but then she turns and gives Lucas a small smile and walks out, shutting the door, effectively stopping Lucas from looking at the boy any closer.

He never got a good look at her precious cargo but if he had to guess, the little boy was about Jamie's age, maybe a little older. He had dark hair and was tall for his age, if the guess was right. And Brooke clearly loves him.

He follows into the living room, where Brooke is looking around as if she's lost and doesn't know how to go about finding her way out. Victoria walks over to her and asks about her aunt.

She shakes her head, like she can't talk about it, but answers her anyway. "She had a stroke. Ethan wasn't there; he was at a friend's house. She had told Grady, her next door neighbor," she says, for everyone who didn't know her aunt's benefit, "to have them call me for him. If anything were to ever happen. So they called and I went."

"Did you close up the house, Brooke?" Again, Victoria.

She shakes her head no. "Grady said he'd take care of everything. I couldn't."

"Then he doesn't even have clothes!" God, where did Victoria get off? Brooke went down there and got some kid to take care of him because his guardian dies, has one weakness and her mother picks it out for her. "You went there completely against my will and brought him back with nothing but the clothes on his back. When I already left a message telling you..."

That's as far as Victoria gets. Haley, surprising, stops her. "Enough, Victoria. How old is he, Brooke? Maybe some of Jamie's clothes will fit him until you can get to the store."

Brooke sends an exhausted smile at Haley. "Thanks, Hales. But I don't think they'll fit. He's bigger than Jamie. And almost a year older, I think." She says this like she _knows_, but wants to sound like she doesn't. "He just turned ten."

Haley nods. "I'm sure we have something, though." Turning to her husband, she asks, "Don't we?"

Nathan walks over to Brooke and pulls her into a hug, whispering to her. When they break apart, Brooke's eyes are glassed over and she thanks him. And then walks over to Haley and hugs her, too. After they break apart, she turns her attention to Lucas and Peyton.

"You guys did not have to come all of this way for this. I'm so sorry."

Peyton snorts, "Tell that to Lucas. Still trying to save all of us. One day at time."

For just a moment, Lucas watches as Brooke's mask falls. She's trying to be strong but that hit her somewhere because she looks devastated. "Brooke, what she means is that we were worried. And planning a trip home, anyway. I just moved it up a little bit."

Brooke turns her tired smile to him, "Where's Sawyer?"

"Asleep in your bed," he tells her. "I figured you were gonna need the spare room. Julian said you were bringing someone back with you. His name's Ethan? Is he a cousin?"

Brooke laughs, but there's no humor to it. "Aunt Charlotte was my great aunt. No. Ethan's not my cousin. I really wanted to see her. Will you guys stay long?"

He notices she doesn't answer the question, so much as side step it. But Peyton answers so quickly that he can't call her on it. "Actually, this is just a quick trip in. There's a flight out tomorrow night."

Haley looks stricken and Nathan raises his eyebrows. Lucas steps in, "I booked the tickets. They were one way, Peyt."

She looks at him like he's lost his mind. "What do you mean, one way? I _need_ to go back. Our whole life is there, Lucas!"

He just shakes his head. "We'll talk about it later," he says it with such finality that she shuts up.

What's wrong with her? Is she still thinking this was the wrong move? Can't she see how much Haley needs them there? How sad Brooke is? Doesn't she _care_?

The girl he fell in love with and married cared about their friends. Where did she go?

Brooke just takes a deep breath. "Well, good then. I'll get to see her awake. But not tonight, guys. Right now, I'd just really like it if everyone could go home. It was a long ride. A long, quiet ride. And I'm exhausted. Thank you all for coming, really. But I'll call you guys when I'm ready to talk, okay?"

Nathan and Haley take that as their cue to say their goodbyes. He hugs both of them and Haley asks him to bring Sawyer over sometime tomorrow. After they leave, Peyton starts packing up her things so he walks back to Brooke's room to get his daughter.

He didn't hear her follow him so her voice startles him. "Lucas. You didn't _have_ to come. And please don't fight with Peyton to stay on my behalf."

He looks down at his baby girl and then turns to Brooke. "Yes. I did _have_ to come. We should have come a long time ago, Brooke. I'm sick of avoiding fighting with Peyton at the cost of my friendships with everyone else. No. We're staying. This is _home_. I want Sawyer to know home."

Instead of arguing with that, Brooke looks down at Sawyer, "She's gorgeous, Luke."

He laughs a little. She has always tried to shift the focus when she gets too uncomfortable with the subject. "My mom says she looks just like me. You should see her when she's awake. Her big blue eyes are hard to deny. Scott eyes. I think we get them from May. Nate and Jamie have them, too."

She nods but he can feel her pulling away. He has no idea what he just said to make her retreat into herself but she does. Right before his eyes. And before he can ask, Peyton appears at the door.

"Lucas, you heard Brooke. She's tired. She doesn't want us here. Let's go."

He nods at her and she leaves just as quickly as she came. "Sorry, she's just…"

He breaks off. She's just what? He doesn't even know right now. He does know that he's tired of it, though.

Brooke just shakes her head. "She's right. Get going; it's late. I'll call you sometime tomorrow so I can see the little princess."

He just wishes he could get her to talk. She seems so defeated. Instead, he bends down and scoops up Sawyer, who shifts in his arms and burrows her head into his neck. He loves the feeling of his baby in his arms. Then he reaches over and pulls Brooke into a light hug.

When they finally separate, he looks into her eyes. "You can have tonight, Brooke, but tomorrow, we're gonna talk. You can talk to me, you know? If you're hurting, I'm here. I'm here now."

That's all it takes. Her hazel eyes glaze over and he thinks she's going to cry right there. She turns her head and blinks a couple of times and then nods.

He doesn't think he's going to get much more from her tonight and though he wants to comfort her, he knows that's not what she wants. So he goes to leave, feeling even more guilty than when he arrived. When he reaches the door, he hears her parting words, spoken so softly that he's not even sure he was supposed to hear her.

"I'm so sorry, Luke."

Sorry, for what? He doesn't know. But he figures she's taking the responsibility for whatever's happening between him and Peyton onto her shoulders. She always has. Tomorrow, he'll set her straight.

_I miss the years that were erased.  
I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_I miss all the little things.  
I never thought that they'd mean everything to me._

When the door shuts behind Lucas and Peyton, Brooke closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She has to go out and face Victoria and Julian still.

She doesn't know which one she'd rather go first with but she has a feeling that her mother isn't going to wait. She saw the look on her face when she realized that Brooke really _did_ bring Ethan home. Like she'd leave him with social services. Like she ever wanted to leave him at all.

If it were up to her, she'd have already went and got him. But she was so sure that Aunt Charlotte was right when she said that she needed to finish high school and that she couldn't do that with a baby that she took the out she was handed. It was better than what her parents wanted. A closed adoption with people she never met wasn't acceptable. This way, she'd have updates through the year she couldn't be with him. And when she graduated, she'd go get him. But then, the company took off and Aunt Charlotte and Victoria convinced her that he'd be okay while she got her business off the ground. After all, she needed a means by which to support him. And then she was defying everything she built anyway, to come back home. Partially for Peyton but mostly because she needed to be around people who loved her. That's when she started her monthly calls up with her great aunt. Then Aunt Charlotte started sending pictures of Ethan. He seemed really happy and she didn't want to disrupt that to bring him into the amount of drama he'd be surrounded by in Tree Hill, as a Scott.

Now, she wishes she would have just brought him sooner. Maybe he'd hate her less. Maybe he wouldn't have to deal with the repercussions of her bad choices while he was already dealing with so much.

With those Scott eyes that Lucas just referred to, it wouldn't take long for someone to figure it out. It's not going to take them long to figure it out now. The last name on Ethan's birth certificate might be Davis but she's pretty sure that everyone's going to see the lie in that almost immediately.

She turns around at the sound of her mother's voice through her door. "Brooke, you can't possibly think you can just wait me out in there, can you? Come out or I'm coming in."

Instead of fighting it, she opens the door and pulls Victoria into the bedroom, whispering, "Shh… I told you: he just fell asleep. An eleven and a half hour car ride, in complete silence, and he only fell asleep in the last half hour. Do not wake him up. I don't need him to hear either of the conversations that are about to take place."

Her mother shuts the door behind her and turns to Brooke. Her eyes move up and down her daughter, as if she's scrutinizing every detail. Brooke hates that those eyes can still make her feel like a disappointing five year old who got dirt on a party dress when she was supposed to be playing tea party.

Finally, Victoria just shakes her head. "I really thought if you knew Lucas was on his way here with his _wife, _who happens to be your best friend, for some God forsaken reason, that you would find a way not to bring the boy here. They did tell you I called, right?"

"What would you have me do, mother?" she asks, incredulously. "He's my son! Did you really expect me to leave him there to fend for himself?"

"You've left him there all of this time."

Yeah, she did. Because that was what everyone expected. Every time she got restless and started making noise about going to see him, they'd remind her of what a bad idea it was. And then throw things at her. An investment into the company so she'd stay busy. And then at twenty-one, they signed the house on the island over to her with the stipulation that Aunt Charlotte got to spend her remaining years in it—with Ethan. She left him there. Her little boy.

She avoided facing consequences that she should have faced years ago. And she'll always regret that. But she would _not_ make one more mistake at his expense. "You're right, Victoria. I did. Because I was too busy listening to everyone else. I was too busy worried about how it would affect _me_, if I didn't do what you all wanted me to do."

Victoria doesn't say anything but just keeps looking at her with that distinct look of dissatisfaction radiating off of her.

"Aunt Charlotte _wanted _me to go visit. She wanted us to know each other. She wanted me to be his mama! You didn't. You still don't want to accept him. He's a part of you. Are you going to wait until he's in his twenties to be nice to him? Because, I love you, mother, but if you are, you can just go. We have enough that we're going to have to work through without you making it harder on everyone."

"He's not only a part of me, Brooke. Or you," she tells her. "You are unequivocally inviting that boy's father into your life. For good. I watched him with that little girl today. I promise you, when he gets wind of this, you'll be lucky to get pictures of him. He's not going to be your friend. I'm trying to protect you."

Brooke just shakes her head. Lucas wouldn't do that. "You're wrong, mom. He wouldn't do that. Lucas and I have been through a lot together. We'll get through this, too."

"You keep telling yourself that, Brooke. Keep letting your puppy love crush on that boy rule every decision you make," Victoria rolls her eyes. "He hurt you. He married your _best friend_. I think you need to get it through your head that he doesn't care about you or your feelings."

"I think you should go now, Victoria." She doesn't need to hear her mother's interpretation of her life. Her decisions are not about Lucas. And she knows that he doesn't _love_ her love her. But he does care for her. He flew all the way here to make sure she was okay, after all.

Sure, he's not going to be happy about missing all of this time with Ethan. But he'll understand, eventually, that she did this for him. She didn't want to tie him to her so early in life. She didn't want to hold him back. Or keep him from finding his true love.

"Brooke, I think you're making a mistake." Victoria tries one last time at the door.

Brooke nods, "Your concern is noted, Mother. I think you're making a bigger mistake."

And with that she shuts her bedroom door in Victoria's face. One horrible conversation down. One to go.

Tonight, anyway.

_Yeah, I miss you.  
And I wish you were here._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_I miss all the little things.  
I never thought that they'd mean everything to me._

Sawyer's room is exactly how they left it and if he's not mistaken, someone must be keeping it clean, too. Brooke and Haley both have keys so he'll have to thank them next time he talks to them and see who fesses up. It's nice to know that someone didn't give up hope on them coming home.

Once Sawyer is down, in her own bed, he takes a deep, somewhat fortifying breath. What's coming with Peyton, he's not sure. But he already knows that it's not going to be good. She barely said good-bye to Brooke or Julian and she hasn't said one word to him since Brooke's bedroom.

He walks into the kitchen where she's just sitting, in the dark. Having lived here most of his life, his hand automatically goes to flip the switch and as the light filters on, she covers her eyes.

His heart breaks a little bit to see how upset her face looks. He never meant to hurt her by announcing that they're staying. But they _are_ staying. He already decided to call and ask his mom to take care of packing up anything she thinks they need and shipping it over here.

When it doesn't seem like she's going to talk to him, he starts talking to her. "You know, Peyt, this is home. You always knew we'd come back here. I don't know why you're freaking out about it so much. The label is still yours and it's _here_. You can still work."

"I didn't realize how much I don't like living here until we moved away, together." She looks up at him for the first time since he walked in and there are tears in her eyes. He feels like the biggest jerk on the planet. "I only came back for you, Luke. I have you. We don't need to be here."

He scrubs his hands over his face and groans. This is not going to be an easy fight for him. But it's what he wants. And what he thinks Sawyer needs.

New Zealand is nice but it's not Tree Hill. And while he understands his mom's reasons for keeping Lily over there, those same reasons don't ring true for him. He used to think they did. But Dan isn't the only person he ever had a relationship with in this town.

And there are more good memories than bad.

He doesn't want to have to get on a plane if someone dies. He wants to be able to drive over and comfort the people left behind. He doesn't want to be thousands of miles away when he knows his best friend is in pain. Too much pain for her husband to even handle, at times, from what Brooke would tell him. He doesn't want to wonder about what they aren't telling him. Worry that something really bad is going on that they've shut him out of.

It took Brooke a month—a month!—to tell him about the infertility. And that was only after he pressed her, telling her than he knew something more was going on. She wouldn't just give up on Julian like that. It's not like her. And then he had to just sit around and think about her. About how she was handling it because he couldn't just drive over and see for himself.

He's sick of being away from them all. He wants Sawyer to grow up with her cousins. He wants her to know her Aunt Brooke—even if it kills him. He wants to have his brother to turn to and he wants Nathan to come to him if he needs something. He wants to be here for Haley. He never meant to leave her.

He sits down and turns his chair to face Peyton. He takes a deep break and begins to explain it to his wife, "Maybe you don't need to be here but _we_ do. I don't want to have to get on a plane when a friend is hurting—"

That's as far as he gets before Peyton cuts him off. "You didn't _need_ to get on a plane. Brooke made that clear, didn't she? This trip was all in vain. You were just looking for a way to force me back here. It wasn't really about Brooke, at all, was it? And if it was, well, kudos, Lucas. You've done a great job of being there for her. So great, in fact, that you barely spent twenty minutes in her presence. And now I'm _stuck_ here. Again! With all of these bad memories!"

Where is all of this coming from? When did life start to revolve around Peyton? "Where do you get off, Peyton? I mean, really? Sure, you had some bad times here. You're not the only one who's had a few crappy years here." He's standing now, yelling and pacing the kitchen. He turns back toward her and points, "But there is more _love_ in this little town. For you. For me. And for _our daughter_. Than anywhere else in this world. She's about to have another cousin- I'm gonna have another niece or nephew that I won't know at all if we leave again. As for Brooke- she was tired, damnit. But she will need us, Peyton. And we _will_ be here. You got that?"

When she doesn't say anything to that but just stares straight ahead, as if looking through him, he shakes his head, deflated. "I was willing to sit down with you and discuss this rationally. When did you stop doing things the rational way? This is the new normal and you can leave or you can stay. I don't really care right now. I'm going to bed."

With that, he turns and walks into their bedroom. Flopping onto the bed, he shuts out all of the thoughts racing through his head. Tomorrow will be a long enough day without losing sleep over this. Peyton will come to her senses. Brooke will talk to him. And Haley's already forgiven him.

It'll be okay. It has to.

_I feel the beating of your heart.  
I see the shadows of your face._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_So far away from where you are,  
These miles have torn us worlds apart.  
And I miss you._

Brooke feels so tired but she knows that she has to explain to Julian before Ethan wakes up tomorrow. She needs to take the brunt of whatever it is her fiancé is going to feel when he finds out that she has just moved her son- the only one she'll ever have- in with them. And that he's Lucas's son, too. Still, she crawls into the bed instead of going out to see if Victoria's talking to Julian or if she's just going to leave.

Her bed covers smell like sweet baby where Sawyer had been all sprawled out and she burrows her head into that spot when she hears the front door close and Julian's footsteps coming toward the room. She never got to smell her own baby on her bed sheets. And no matter what she said to Victoria, it was mostly her fault.

She should have taken him and run. She could have gone to Georgia to be with him. Or told Lucas about him and asked for help. She's paid the price for all of these years but somehow she knows, the consequences are really just beginning.

"Brooke." Julian's voice is soft. Kind. Confused. And she hates what's about to happen. "Why does Victoria dislike the kid?"

She turns her head toward him and sighs. She knows what she has to do. It's time for the real consequences to begin. "I can probably show you, better than I can tell you."

She gets up and walks to her closet door when he speaks again. "Brooke, you're scaring me. How about we just sit and talk before you walk to the guillotine. It looks like you're ready to hang. And I have no clue why."

Instead of answering him, because she honestly can't say it, she opens the door and walks to the very back of her walk-in. After moving aside a few gowns, she finds the box that she's looking for and pulls it down. She looks down at it for a moment, taking in the fact that Julian isn't the first person she ever wanted to share this box with. She wanted it to be Lucas. And one day soon, she's sure that Lucas will get a look at it, too. But right now, this is the best explanation she can give the guy who wants to spend the rest of his life with her. And even though she really would prefer it if Lucas knew first, there's a part of her that knows that if she waits until morning, she won't need words, or this box, because her little boy's eyes are going to be enough of an explanation.

And she does _not_ want Julian's reaction to be something that Ethan has to deal with.

So she sits the box beside Julian on their bed, then she sits next to it and pulls the lid off. Julian's eyes haven't left hers yet. He hasn't seen the contents. She breaks eye contact with him and looks into it, herself. The first thing she sees is a picture of Ethan and Aunt Charlotte on the beach outside of the Georgia house.

She pulls it out and hands it to him. "This is my Aunt Charlotte and the little boy in the spare room. His name is Ethan. I have about a hundred of pictures just like this. My great aunt has been sending me packages full of them regularly since I moved back to Tree Hill five years ago."

She can tell that he's looking at the picture without _really_ looking at the child in it. If he was, he'd already know what she can't say. He doesn't seem to see the resemblance as much as she can, though.

"Is he related to you?" he asks, instead. Instead of making it easier on her. Instead of guessing so she didn't have to say it.

She locks eyes with him for a minute and then breaks the contact again. Looking away, she nods. Then her hand blindly goes into the box, pulling out the picture that she looks at the most. The picture she spends every August fifth staring at. She doesn't even have to look at it to know that she has the right picture. She knows every crease, every tear. So she doesn't look at it, or him, as she hands it to him.

It's very quiet for a few minutes before he speaks again. "Is this him?"

She nods again, this time trying to blink away the tears at the edge in his voice. "The day he was born. August fifth. A month before I started my senior year of high school."

"He's yours." It's not a question. It's a statement that sounds more like an accusation than anything else. "All this time, Brooke. Three years, and you never told me about this. How could you keep something like this from me?"

The tears have finally won the battle and she just shakes her head. There is no defense for this. "I kept it from everyone. By the time I met you, it was second nature."

"Who's his dad?" he asks the question but doesn't wait for the answer before answering it, himself. "_Lucas_." Picking up the first picture she handed him, he nods, "Of course, he is. Because why would that surprise me at all. I mean, this is my life, after all. And he ruins everything good in my life. Is that why he flew home so quickly, to be at your side? Is that why he wanted to help tonight? Maybe he's ready to be a dad now so he can play daddy to the one he didn't want in high school."

"It's not like that, Julian!" She startles herself with how quickly she jumps to Lucas's defense. "He didn't know, either. I just said, I kept it from _everyone_. Lucas, included."

"How is that even possible?" He seems like he can't believe that no one would have noticed.

She laughs, without any real humor in it. "When no one really sees you, it's easy to hide. And when Lucas started to see me, I hid further. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. But it _is _possible."

Julian doesn't confront her on it further. Instead, he just looks at the two pictures, as if trying to reconcile everything he knows.

"Julian," she ventures, softly, "I get it if you hate me. But I need for you not to take out what I've done on my son."

She silently implores him to just look at her so she can know if this relationship is unsalvageable. He turns to her and it's like he's looking right through her.

"I don't know how I feel at the moment, Brooke." He shakes his head, "No. I do. I feel like I don't know you at all."

"Julian—"

He cuts her off, "Don't worry about how I'm going to treat _your_ son. I'll find somewhere else to stay until I sort all of this out in my head. You should be worrying about what's going to happen when his dad finds out."

With that, he gets up and packs a bag quickly. And then, he's gone. Just like that.

And the battle she's been fighting all day with her tears is completely lost.

Lucas wouldn't take Ethan away from her. They're wrong.

_Right?_

_Just know that wherever you are,  
Yeah, I miss you.  
And I wish you were here.

* * *

_

**Thanks everyone for reading and don't forget to review! Every time I get one, it just helps to propel me to write quicker (and between them and Tanya, I'm pretty motivated lol). **

**xx-Cor**


	3. Carry Me Through

**Hey everyone! Thanks to all those who read and reviewed last chapter. I'm trying to do something new this time around. If a review requires an answer, I've been responding. Or if it's just particularly awesome, I'm responding. So if you have any burning questions, you can ask in the reviews :)**

**So, this chapter was over twenty pages. I had two readers tell me that it wouldn't be horrible of me to cut it into two chapters. That means there's good news and bad news. Bad news first, you say? Okay. The Brooke/Lucas conversation isn't in this chapter. And it's a little bit shorter than last chapter. The good news is that it's written. (I wrote it before I wrote this chapter.) So I'll tweek it a little bit. Add some things (it's way too intense to be its own chapter). And you'll get another chapter from me. Within the week.**

**Without any further adieu, I give you the next chapter. (I suck at picking songs for this fic. Hopefully, they start matching betting soon! But this Superchick song is nothing short of amazing.) I hope you all enjoy! :)**

**

* * *

**

_How long will this take?  
How much can I go through?_

"Daddy! Daddy!"

They're pretty much the first words he hears every morning since Sawyer started talking. He never thought the day would come when he didn't need an alarm clock. But she's his own personal wakeup call—usually hours before he'd have set the alarm anyway. He yawns, rolls out of bed, and looks around. Peyton didn't come to bed last night. He never felt her get in.

If she complains about her back today from sleeping on the couch, he's going to tell her to shut up. It was her choice to sleep there when she had a nice cozy bed to be in. She chooses these things and then acts like it's his fault. All. The. Time.

He's sick of everything being his fault.

He carries enough guilt, thank you very much.

He sighs deeply as he walks through the door into the hallway. She's not on the couch. And he doesn't have time to look for her right now. Sawyer is bordering on hysterical. She doesn't know where she is and she's in a crib, something she hasn't slept in for over six months. He doesn't want her to attempt to crawl out of it. He's going to have to make time to go purchase a toddler bed today. And maybe he can get Nate to help him put it together.

He walks through the door to the nursery and sees his little girl's face, tears streaming down it. "Daddy!" she cries. "Help, daddy, up."

His three year old baby is still whimpering as he picks her up and soothes her, rubbing small circles on her back and whispering, "Shh, princess. Daddy's here. I'm here, now."

In two minutes, her cries have turned to happy girl sighs so he bounces her up and down to get her to look at him. When she does, he coos to her, "Are you hungry, beautiful?"

She nods her head, her big blue eyes still swimming with tears. "Krispies."

It's her way of saying she wants cereal. Well, he hopes Haley has some because that's where he's taking her. They don't even have any milk here. He grabs the overnight bag he made up last night so he can dress her after she eats, stops at the bathroom to make her go potty, and is halfway through the door when he sees the note.

It's on the refrigerator. Written in Peyton's scrawl.

_Went to Bridgeport. __Awesome band playing tonight. Maybe Red Bedroom can sign them. __ Will see you in a few days._

_-P_

If he had a moment to think, he might realize that he has no reaction. Which is probably worse than having a bad one. But he doesn't have time to think because Sawyer has taken to chanting for her cereal and he still has to find Nathan and Haley's new house. It's in a new development. One that wasn't even there when he lived in Tree Hill last. Thankfully, it's not too far from where Nathan and Brooke grew up so he knows the neighborhood. He finds the house with little issues.

It's huge. It's so unlike Haley—who grew up down the street from him with six brothers and sisters in a three bedroom house—to need something this big that he guesses they bought it for the privacy fence. And the gate at the entrance. Thank goodness it's Mr. Connor guarding the gate or he probably wouldn't have made it into the community. Mr. Connor used to be a Tree Hill police officer. He had come into the café all of the time so he knows that Lucas is Nathan's brother and lets him through after giving him a good lecture about coming home more often and telling him to say hi to his mom for him.

When he walks up to the door, he gets a sudden nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if Haley was just being nice because of the situation last night? What if she didn't really mean she wanted him to come over? What if he picked a fight with Peyton for nothing last night?

What if they don't even want him here?

He stands there so long that the door swings open in front of him. And he never even knocked.

Haley's standing there with an amused look on her face, her arms crossed over her chest. "Well, are you just gonna stand there and stare all morning or are you going to get her in here so she can have her Krispies?"

"I was concerned that I didn't call first," he tells her. Then he decides to just be really honest, "I was afraid you wouldn't want me here."

"Lucas," she sighs, almost resigned. "Of course I want you here. It's all I've wanted for so long now. I needed you here and you weren't. But you're here now, and I still need you, so I can't argue about you not being here then."

He doesn't know what to say to that. He feels like she let him off easily, maybe too easily, and the guilt is still there. It's still lingering in the air between them.

"Besides," she continues, "Brooke needs you now. I didn't think you'd be able to stay away while she suffered. You know I have Nathan. I know you know I have Nathan. But Brooke? You don't trust Julian enough to believe he'll be what she needs. So you came back. It took you long enough. But I knew you'd come. Because she needs someone and she's never needed anyone like this—so openly—before. You want to be that someone. You always have."

Her tone gets less serious as she reaches out to Sawyer, "Come to Aunt Haley, gorgeous. Let's see if we can find you some Krispies."

She plucks his little girl out of his arms and starts to walk away, toward the back of the house, while he just stands there in the doorway, stunned at her insight. She's right. It's Haley—she usually is.

He didn't fight Peyton when she argued against coming home for Mrs. James's funeral because she made him feel guilty about bringing up her memories of her mothers' deaths. But that was only a small part of it. Sometime, somewhere, long ago, he gave his best friend to his brother. He put her into his hands and he knew she'd be safe. He trusted Nathan with Haley more than he trusted almost anything else in this world. Actually, if you were to ask him, any time after junior year, he'd tell you that he worried more for his brother if they were to break up than he worried for Haley. Because Nathan loves Haley in a way that he's only seen one other time. The way that Keith loved his mom. Almost to a fault. As if nothing else matters. Thank goodness Haley loves his brother back. He was never quite sure about his mom's feelings.

It sucks to love someone like that and not have it returned. He _knows_. He's been there.

He didn't have to feel too bad about not being able to come because he knew she'd be okay. Nathan would stop at nothing to make sure of it. He knew that as well as he knew how to breathe.

And she knows him that same way. Of course, he needed to see for himself that Brooke was alright. With everything going on. It's not the same as what he did for Peyton senior year. Brooke Davis _never_needs saving. And, he's sure, this is no different. But that doesn't change the fact that he needs to be here. Just in case. She's been through too much this year and he's never seen her as vulnerable as she was last night. Never.

And he's pretty sure he's seen her at her most vulnerable.

He won't even think about going anywhere until she's okay. And that Haley knows and understands that just proves that the kind of friendship that they have can transcend just about anything.

She yells from behind a wall, somewhere at the back of the house, "Lucas, come in and shut the door. You're letting the flies in."

He does as she asks, then walks to the back of the house, taking in everything. This is how he always pictured, pre-junior year, Nathan living. This is _not,_ in any way, how he pictured Haley's life. Even if Haley's money could pay the bills just as easily.

He smiles when he finds her in the kitchen, doting on her niece. Sawyer looks less scared then when she was first being carried away but still happy to see him walk through the archway. "So Hales, where are my nephew and brother? Don't tell me they're still sleeping."

"Actually," she says, never taking her eyes off of Sawyer, who's now digging into a bowl of Rice Krispies, "Nathan is running an errand for Brooke and," she checks her watch, "he should be at her house sometime soon. Maybe you could catch him, get him to take the little boy back here to play with Jamie, and you could talk to Brooke? I could watch Sawyer."

"Ethan." He tells her, smiling at the name.

She looks at him and scrunches her face up like she's trying to figure out what he's talking about. "Huh?"

"The little boy." He tries again, "You called him that. Brooke called him by name last night. It's Ethan. Where's Jamie at?"

"He's at Quinn's. He spent the night because we were at Brooke's so late but they should be here with him any minute. I think it's a good idea. You and Brooke can talk without any interruptions—speaking of, where is my sister-in-law?"

He laughs at her rambling. She always did go off subject when she was talking about an idea that she thought was best, even if the other person didn't agree. "_Peyton_is out of town. She wanted to go see some band. Take advantage of our being here. I don't think she's quite accepted that we're going to be here for a while."

Haley looks at him again but this time it's like she's trying to find the right words. She shakes her head, as if she decided against whatever she was thinking, and repeats herself, "Go over to Brooke's, tell Nathan to bring Ethan back here, talk to her. It's why you're even here. I've got Sawyer."

"She might cry," he warns her.

She smiles at that. "She'll be fine. Go."

He nods. "Okay. Thanks, Hales."

With a quick hug and kiss for each of the girls in the kitchen, he turns and walks toward the front door again.

Hopefully, Brooke will talk to him.

_My heart, my soul aches.  
I don't know what to do._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_I bend, but don't break.  
And somehow, I'll get through.  
Cause I have you._

"Brooke."

She hears the voice but doesn't really _know_ it. Even though she knows who it belongs to. She's never really heard it before. Except for about four words all day yesterday. And they don't count.

Those words weren't her little boy calling her by name. Her _first_ name. Not mama. Not mom. Not even mother. Just Brooke.

She deserves it. She knows that. But it still hurts like hell.

She opens her eyes, realizing that she must have cried herself to sleep, in her clothes, while smelling the baby smell that Sawyer left behind on her bed. "Hey, buddy," she tries for a friendly smile. "What's up?"

He gets this cute little scowl on his face that is so much like his dad, it almost hurts and from the doorway that he's standing in, says, "I'm kind of hungry. And I would have waited in the room but there's someone knocking on the door. I don't know if I'm allowed to answer it."

"Ethan," she says, full of concern, for him and not at all for who's at the door. Anyone important would just use their key and walk right in. "How long have you been awake? You could have come and got me. Of course you're hungry. You didn't eat at all yesterday."

She stands up, walks toward him, and he backs away. That breaks her heart a little more. He doesn't even want to be near her. "I have cereal. All kinds. I also make a mean pancake. Karen taught me how. When I was—" she stops, realizing that he doesn't want to hear this and he doesn't even know who Karen is. "Anyway, Nathan, a friend of mine, is going to come over with some clothes for you. To hold us over until we can get yours. What'll it be for breakfast?"

He does the little scowl again but follows her to the kitchen. She pulls out a chair and gestures for him to sit. The knocking, thankfully, has stopped. "So, cereal or pancakes?"

He climbs into the chair and looks at her, as if he's measuring her ability to do this—be his mom or make breakfast? She's not sure. And he doesn't look it, either. "If you would have just brought me home, your friend wouldn't need to bring me clothes," he tells her, instead of answering.

She doesn't know what to say to that so she just raises an eyebrow. To that, he says, "Pancakes. Who's Karen?"

Just like he read her mind.

She's about to answer him, vaguely, when she hears Lucas's voice instead. "She's my mom. And her pancakes are the best. But Brooke does an okay impression of making them the same way she does.

She turns around, surprised. _Scared_. "Lucas, I thought you were going to call."

Nathan is standing next to him with bags of clothes. Lucas has a few in his hands, too. Ethan, thankfully, hasn't turned to look at them yet. He looks just as frozen as she feels. She prays that neither Lucas nor Nathan reacts, if they notice, in front of him.

"Well, I was," he tells her. "But then Haley convinced me to come over here and invite Ethan over to play with Jamie. She thought maybe you could use some time..."

He trails off and she thinks, more like Haley thought maybe Brooke and Lucas needed to talk. Haley's eyes last night were a clear indicator that she at least _suspected_ who Ethan was. Maybe not that he was Lucas's but the second that Brooke avoided the "who is he to you" question, Haley got suspicious.

"And it's a good thing she did, because Nate here didn't have his key to your house. Apparently, you're not answering the door this morning?" He smiles at her, completely oblivious to her panic and wayward thoughts. She almost gives into an irrational need to run into his arms for one more hug. Just _one_ more. Before he sees Ethan's face. His son's eyes. "Good thing I still have mine, huh?"

"Ethan," Nathan says, in that I'm-your-best-friend-in-the-world voice that he uses on Jamie before trying to convince him to do the opposite of whatever it is he wants to do, "buddy, Brooke's pancakes might be almost as good as Karen's but Haley's, that's my wife, french toast is out of this world. You could come over here and pick out some clothes. And then we could go to my house and shoot some hoops. Jamie's about your age."

When Ethan still doesn't turn to him, Nathan keeps talking but also starts to walk to the counter. "If you don't like basketball, we could play Wii or Xbox. Whatever you want. It'll be your choice."

Nathan is beside him at the counter now and finally, Ethan looks up at him. Brooke's eyes leave Lucas's, who is still standing in the living room- not wanting to overwhelm the little boy, to plead with Nathan, silently. To his credit, Nathan doesn't skip a beat. But he _knows_. His eyes go a little wide and he gives her a look that she can't quite decipher. Instead of reacting, though, he smiles at the little boy who is now looking at him in awe, "So, what do you think, little buddy? Can we give your" finally, he stumbles. He wants to say mom. It's all over his face. Instead, he catches himself, "I mean, Brooke. Can we give Brooke a few hours to talk to Lucas?"

He throws her a look that says, _you're gonna need more than a few hours to explain this one. _

Ethan, bless his heart, is completely still but realizes that he has to say something. Nathan's looking at him expectantly. His eyes have gotten almost as round as Nathan's and Brooke belatedly grasps that he probably recognizes the NBA player in his uncle. As she realizes it, Ethan finds his voice. "But you're Nathan Scott," he tells his father's brother—not that he knows that yet. "You'd play basketball. With me?"

Nathan's whole face changes when he sees the fan in his nephew. There's not an ounce of anger—at Brooke—left on it. "Of course, buddy. Any friend of Brooke's," his eyes meet hers and she knows that he still wants his own answers, "is a friend of mine."

To his credit, her son looks to her. "Would it be okay, Brooke?"

She tries to mask the cringe that her name on his lips brings out in her. Instead, she smiles at him and nods, "Of course. Nathan and Haley have been my friends for years. He's right; you and Jamie, that's their son, are around the same age. You'll probably have a lot in common." You're cousins; after all, she barely suppresses the urge to say. "Go ahead."

He must forget he hates her, and his whole life has been turned upside down, for just a small moment because his face lights up like a Christmas tree and his smile is beaming at her. "Thanks."

It's not a lot but it's something. And she hopes with everything in her to see that smile more often. Soon.

Even if it's another thing that proves he's Lucas's.

At that moment, Lucas must decide that it's time for him to meet Brooke's guest, before he leaves, because he walks over to the side of the counter Brooke's on. The side that Ethan is still facing.

Her aunt must have, at some point, slipped Lucas's name because Ethan looks as scared as she feels. But he's watching his dad expectantly. She's not sure if he wants a reaction or not. She's not sure if she should watch Ethan and make sure he's okay either way or if she should look to Lucas and plead with him not to freak out.

Lucas is not as quick as Nathan is to see it. Haley must have asked Nathan to figure it out. She turns toward him and he's looking at Ethan. He's talking but she doesn't hear a word of what he's saying. It's mostly about basketball anyway.

She looks back to their son and can feel him trying to shrink himself. So, he doesn't want a reaction, it seems. And then Lucas must say something funny—or maybe, it's Nathan. She can't really hear anything but the whooshing noise in her ears, screaming at her that this is it. She feels Lucas's hand reach out and touch her arm as they all start laughing. Maybe they're talking about her basketball skill- or lack thereof. Whatever it is, the light touch makes her automatically turn back toward Lucas. Missing completely the fact that Ethan is laughing, too. Or, not missing it, just the implications of it.

Lucas is looking at her anyway and she knows from the look on his face that, yes, they're laughing at her expense. But before she can lock eyes with him, he turns back toward the other two people in the room. And her eyes stay trained on his smiling face.

And she sees the _exact_ moment that he knows.

His smile disappears so fast that it's almost like it was never there. And his eyes widen, much in the same way Nathan's did a few minutes ago. Much in the same way Ethan was looking at Nathan when he realized he was Nathan Scott and at Lucas because he knew that was his dad.

The only difference is that when _he_ turns to her, his eyes are full of unspoken betrayal. She has never seen him look so hurt before. Not when she lied to him about lying about the pregnancy during junior year. Not when he walked in on her and Chris. Not when she broke up with him. Or when he found out about Dan being Keith's killer. Or the night he told her Peyton said no. Or when Lindsey left him at the altar. _Never_.

And she knows then that the two conversations she had last night were a day at the park compared to what's coming. Because this matters more.

_He_matters more.

_O Lord, where are you?  
Do not forget me here._

_**-x-b-x-l-x- **_

_I cry in silence.  
Can you not see my tears?_

_His_. Without a doubt, the child sitting across from him is his. He's basically the spitting image of him at around that age, with darker, thicker hair. Brooke's, no doubt. How he didn't see it until the boy smiled, he has no clue. Maybe he was trying not to see it. Because he didn't want this child to be Brooke's, so he wasn't looking at him as closely as he could have been.

But the moment he saw that face—it's almost like looking in a mirror—smiling up at him, he saw Sawyer. And he knew.

And Brooke's eyes, full of unshed tears and silent begging, are telling him that he's not wrong. This isn't his imagination. He has no idea how, or when, or even why, but this is his child. His- what did Brooke say? Ten years old? - grown child staring back at him.

He's in awe. He and Brooke made a _baby_ together. He's shocked. She didn't _want_ that baby? He's sad. He missed _ten_ years of this kid's life.

But mostly he's guilt-ridden and pissed as hell at the person who put him here. _Brooke_.

Nathan is speaking again so he does his best to turn toward them—away from Brooke. His son is watching him. Waiting. He must know. Then he sees his brother touch Ethan, _his son_, and he turns to get down off of the stool he's been sitting on.

"Wait." He didn't even realize he was going to speak until he did. "Ethan? Wait."

The little boy turns around and Lucas rushes around the counter to get to him. He wants him to know…

_So much_. There's so much he wants him to know. And looking into the ten year old's eyes; he knows it's not the time to tell him much of it. First, and foremost, Brooke is still his mom. And she has a right to explain before he jumps in and messes anything up. He's calling her Brooke. That must mean he doesn't really know her either. So it's not like she horded him away for herself. But what stops him from speaking, most of all, is his little boy's eyes, so much like his own and Sawyer's, but so much older and wiser than they should be. And more sad. Much more sad. He wouldn't be able to stand it if he made them worse.

So, instead of saying anything, he kneels to his level and hugs him. Tight. Too tight probably. He feels like, if he lets go, it might be the last time he ever touches him, so he keeps his hands on his shoulders and looks into his eyes. He softly tells him the only thing he can think of—without it being too much. "This is actually not Nathan. It's Uncle Nathan. Okay?"

The little boy nods. He doesn't seem upset; it's more like understanding. "And when you get to their house, his wife is Aunt Haley. Jamie's your cousin- be nice to him. And your little sister is there, too. Her name's Sawyer."

He can feel Brooke behind him. She's not mad, just uneasy. He takes that as a sign that it's okay to keep talking. "She looks just like you, with blonde hair. She likes hugs. Do you like hugs?"

His little boy has tears in his eyes now and he needs to stop. He wants to stop. But then Ethan nods his head and Lucas just wants to hold him all over again. So he does. He can feel himself choking up and he doesn't want to cry in front of this child, who has so much happening to him already. He needs to finish up and let Nate take him away. For now.

He pulls away but this time, Ethan keeps his hands on Lucas's shoulders. "I'm your dad," Lucas tells him, pushing past the lump forming in his throat to the awe surrounding his heart. Who knew it was possible to feel love so quickly and strongly for a grown child? "And," he can't believe he's about to say it, "_Brooke_ is your mom. You can find a respectful name to call her. Brooke's not it. Okay?"

Ethan nods again but he knows if he goes any farther, the little boy will disengage from the conversation. His expressive eyes tell him everything he needs to know. "I need to talk to your mom but I'll come get you and your sister afterwards, okay?" He lets go completely, standing up. "Have fun."

As if _that_ could be possible for the poor kid.

_When all have left me,  
And hope has disappeared.  
You'll find me here._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_When everything I was is lost.  
I have forgot but you have not._

Brooke watches as Ethan slips his hand into Nathan's- something he wouldn't do with her just yesterday- and walks out the front door. Lucas is watching them, too, from right beside her. Though, for all it's worth, he could be a million miles away. It's the first time, in a very long time, that he's _completely_ closed to her.

She can't read what he's feeling. At all.

He turns toward her with the blankest stare he has ever given her. She's not sure she can even begin to talk to him while he's looking at her like that. She expected him to be mad and maybe hurt. But blank? That could mean too many different things.

And what was with what he just said to Ethan? What if Ethan hadn't known he was his dad? What if Ethan didn't know he was their son? That'd be a lot for him to take in. Maybe Lucas can read him better than her. He didn't take it badly- the half introduction, half lecture Lucas just gave him. But then again, even if he did, would she be able to tell?

He turns on his heel and it looks like he's just going to leave. She can't let him go so she stops him, reaching out for his arm, she whispers, "Lucas…"

It's all she can say. She has no clue how to start. She doesn't know what he needs to hear. What will fix this?

The words that will help her keep Lucas. As a friend. As someone who loves her.

What will stop him from taking Ethan from her before she even has the chance to win his love? Would he take Ethan?

She doesn't have the words. If there are any in this world that could help, she doesn't know what they are.

He looks down at the hand that she laid on his forearm and she can see, for a brief minute, the hurt cross his face. When he turns his face up to look at her, though, it's gone. The blank is back and his words are icy. "Brooke, you don't want to do this with me right now. I need a minute. I'm just going to take a walk and when I get back, you're going to explain."

The arm she's not touching lifts up and he pulls her hand away from him. She nods, trying to hide the hurt that she can't help feeling at his disdain for her touching him. She wants to explain to him _now_ but she has no voice.

He takes a step back from her as if he can't do this so close to her. "And Brooke?"

She looks up into his ice blue eyes, where steel seems to be forming. He continues, "It better be a good explanation. Because I _loved _you with everything I had. And I feel like that's ruined now. _Forever._"

With that, he turns his back to her and walks out of her house.

She stares at the closed door, blinking the tears back. She will not cry. She doesn't deserve to cry.

Only, she has to. She loses the battle to the wrenching sobs pushing their way out. She has _never_ felt this empty.

What could she possibly say if he's already saying _loved_? Past tense never hurt so much.

_When I am lost,  
You have not lost me.  
And if I had to crawl,  
Will you crawl too?_

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_I stumble and I fall.  
Carry me through._

He's in the car with his uncle. His uncle who is Nathan Scott. The NBA player. He wonders if it's some kind of sin to be excited to be here. With his uncle. Instead of wishing he was still at home. It's quiet but not the same quiet that filled the car ride with Brooke yesterday. He isn't being silent with his uncle on purpose. He just doesn't know what to say.

Thankfully, Uncle Nathan takes the lead. "I think you're really gonna like Jamie. You guys are only a couple of months apart. He loves basketball, too."

"My aunt says that it's a waste," he tells him. "How much time I spend playing and following college and pros. We don't have a team at the school on the island."

"Oh, really?" He looks interested in what Ethan's saying, "What made you so into it then?"

He's going to answer him when his uncle gets a big smile on his face. "I mean, it's probably just ingrained into your blood. Lucas would probably be pro, too."

"He plays, too?" Ethan asks curiously. His dad is almost a complete mystery to him. But he seemed nice enough for a stranger. He told Ethan more than Brooke did about his life in five minutes and _she _had all day yesterday. She didn't even try. And he wants him to call her mom? Not fair.

"He did." His uncle seems a little uneasy with answering the question.

Ethan wants to know why but he doesn't want everyone to wish he wasn't here. He already has a mom who doesn't want him. "Maybe that's why she sent me it, then."

"Who?"

He hadn't realized he said it out loud but now his newfound famous uncle is waiting for an explanation. "Brooke," he waits for Nathan to correct him. He doesn't, only waits for more information, so he continues, "A few birthdays ago. She sent a basketball. I guess that's when I started to get interested in it."

"She was a cheerleader," Nathan tells him, as if he wants to know. "Head cheerleader. Lucas was so in love with her. He and I shared captain of the basketball team for most of senior year."

He can feel the excitement leaving as a hopeless feeling he knows all too well comes over him. "They have a baby?"

"Who? Brooke and Lucas?" Nathan sounds confused.

Ethan looks over at him, "He said I have a sister. My aunt talked about her a lot. My…" he was going to try it. Calling her mom. But he just can't. "Her Brookie. But she never said that she had another baby. Aunt Charlotte always said she'd come for me. That _I_ was her baby."

He can't help how sad it makes him. Even if Lucas didn't know. Even if Brooke just didn't want him so much that she never even told his dad about him. They still had another baby. A girl. A girl Brooke probably _loves_. How can he call her mom?

She didn't love him enough to keep him. She doesn't want him. And she has a family that he's not in when he _should_ be.

"Oh," his uncle says pulling onto the side of the road. He turns to him, "Sawyer isn't Brooke's baby. Lucas married someone else. Peyton. Brooke doesn't have any other kids."

He processes that for a minute. "But you said he loves her? Aunt Charlotte said he's the love of her life."

Uncle Nathan just nods at him. "Yeah. Both of those things are probably true. It's a long story and I think it's one that neither of them would thank me for telling you."

Ethan looks at him, trying to figure out if he should ask more questions. His uncle turns back toward the road and starts driving again.

Peyton. They didn't grow up and get married. They aren't a family. She doesn't have a baby that's not him. He should feel better but he doesn't.

"Uncle Nathan?" he questions.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Do you think she's gonna be okay?" he asks. "Because my … Lucas looked kind of mad at her. And I think she was scared."

His uncle pulls into a long driveway with a big house at the end of it and stops the car. He turns and looks him in the eye. "Your dad would never hurt your mom on purpose, Ethan. Not ever. He might be mad. And she's probably scared to death of losing him. Because they _do_ love each other. But, like he said, they're going to talk. I'm sure your mom will try to make him understand. I don't know if he will. Lucas…"

He stops and Ethan doesn't think he's going to keep talking. But then after a short pause, he continues, "He's a really good dad. I know that he's just upset that he didn't get to know you for your whole life. And, just between you and me?" Ethan nods. "He's _always_ loved your mom. This is big thing. But they _will _get through it."

Ethan lets that soak in. His uncle sounds so sure and he would know better than him. After all, Ethan just met both of them. Nathan has been around them his whole life.

"Come on, buddy," his uncle opens the door. "Let's go get Jamie and shoot some hoops."

He doesn't want them to be mad at each other. Not over _him._

He doesn't need another reason for her to not want him. If Lucas stays mad because of him, she'll never even _like_ him. And Aunt Charlotte went with the angels. Where would he go?

It's not that he wants her to love him. He _doesn't_. But maybe she could like him. Just a little. And then maybe she'd want him.

Maybe he'll even call her mom. If she could just like him.

_The wonder of it all,  
Is you see me through._

_

* * *

_

**There it is! What'd you think? Click the review and let me know, if you please. Thanks for reading!**

**xx- Cor**


	4. Bleed

**Seriously, you guys. The response to last chapter? Blew. Me. Away. I was concerned about that last scene. I was concerned about Lucas's reaction. You guys are so amazing. **

**So I was going to add scenes to this. And I did add two—both BL. But I wanted to make it more than just them. I can't bring myself to do it, though. This needs to be just them. Please, please, don't get used to these very frequent updates. Anyone who read DLA knows that I am not a regular updater. But I just had to post this. **

**I hope ya'll enjoy. Also, for the record, I don't own the show. Or anything CW related (not sure I'd want to, unless I was getting Paul Wesley or Ian Somerhalder in the process). This song is the property of Hot Chelle Rae. Listen to it. Word.

* * *

**

_I feel like I'm drowning in ice water.  
My lips have turned a shade of blue._

Brooke's house is looming in the distance. The short walk around the marina doesn't feel like it took nearly long enough. He still wants to just scream out loud.

How could she do this to him? He had a father who abandoned him. He knows inherently what that feels like. He told her that. He sat in front of her that night and he told her that he didn't want to be that guy. His child would never know the pain of being unwanted. _Unloved_. Discarded.

And she _lied_ to him. She said she wasn't pregnant. That she lied because he hurt her. And he felt _so_bad about that. He did that to her. He made her feel so bad that she lashed out in a way that he didn't think was possible for her. She lied. He carried that guilt around for years. As of this morning, he still carried it. He wounded her so badly that she would do something so out of character. Brooke may have been a lot of things—but she wasn't a liar. He always blamed himself for pushing her to that.

But now it seems that she lied about lying. If Ethan is ten, she _was_ pregnant during junior year. She gave birth before they started their last year of high school. He's trying to do the math but it's not quite adding up in his tangled thoughts. How did he miss it? She lived in his room for all of that time. How did she hide it from his mom?

There are so many questions but the only one that matters to him is: _why? _

Why didn't she want their beautiful baby boy? Why did she keep this vital information from him? Why did she keep his son from him? Why would she give a home to Angie or Samantha or some other unwanted kid but not to Ethan?

Ethan, who _shares_ their blood. Ethan, the baby they _made_. What is wrong with Ethan? Why doesn't she want him?

He wonders if it's based solely on the fact that Ethan has _his_blood. If she just didn't want his child. If he hurt her so bad that she couldn't even raise the baby they made together.

He's looked at this every which way and he just can't seem to wrap his head around it. _How could she?_ She came back here, after giving birth to _his_son and then giving him away, and put him through hell. And he took everything she dished out because he knew—he _knew_—he deserved it. He did everything he could; he jumped through burning, fiery hoops, to prove to her that he loved her. He forgave what he thought was her biggest indiscretion against him without a second thought. He fought to keep her while she pushed him away over and over again. And he was so sure that it was entirely his fault. She never once told him about their baby. She never even slipped a tiny clue. She kept this from him. And she didn't seem to even blink at the dishonesty.

Her letters. He has, in the past ten years, read those letters more times than he can count. Now he's going through the few that he knows by heart, in his head. He's trying to figure out if she dropped hints in them. She was so open in them, he thought. They made him believe that he knew her inside and out. That he knew her better than anyone on this planet. That he loved her and she loved him in a way that no one else could touch.

That their love was something that could see them through anything.

But this isn't just anything. This is the worst deception that he has ever faced. Worse than finding out Jimmy didn't shoot Keith and the man he'd just finally been accepted by, as son, did. He's not sure they can make it through this with any love intact. If their friendship will survive this. If he's being completely honest with himself, he's not sure he wants to feel _anything_ for Brooke. Let alone love.

He's on the porch now. The door is a door, just like any others. Except it's red and it's so _her_that it hurts him. _How could she do this to them?_

He's about to find out. If he could just open the door and talk to her like a human. He won't be warm, he tells himself. He's not her friend. He's not her ex-boyfriend. She's not the girl that he's loved for so long that just looking at her could pierce his heart, if the moment is right. He won't cry, even if she does. Especially if she does. And he definitely will _not_, under any circumstances, comfort her, in any way. He wants answers and an explanation. She will give those to him. If they don't self-destruct, in the end, they'll figure out how they're going to co-parent. And that's _it_.

Nothing else will happen in there.

_Nothing else can._

_I'm frozen with this fear._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_That you may disappear,  
Before I've given you the truth._

She's splashing water on her face when she hears the front door open and close. A quick look in the mirror tells her that the cold water didn't help much in the way of her appearance. She's still all red and splotchy.

Somehow, she doesn't think Lucas will mind. He might not even notice. He might not even look at her.

She digs down deep for the courage to go out and face him. To make him understand without placing blame anywhere but on herself—because that's where it belongs.

The walk into the living room is short and she doesn't find him there. She hears his throat clear from behind her so she turns toward him. He's standing in the kitchen, holding a picture. She knows instinctively the picture that's in his hands is the one of him, her, and baby Angie. She keeps it in the drawer next to the fridge with all of the old pictures that she's taken down.

His eyes are still carefully blank as he slides the picture across the counter that separates them. His voice is quiet and cold as he asks the one question that is going to be the hardest to answer.

"Why?"

She could act like the question is too vague, since it is. There are tons of whys. But she knows what he's asking. "I missed him every day. I wanted a baby to fill the void but I couldn't imagine having one of my own. Especially alone. If he grew up and found out that I did that, what would he have thought of me?"

"As opposed to you taking in someone else's child, when you didn't want your own?" He cuts her off, "He'd probably think that you were a hypocrite. I certainly do."

"Lucas-" she stops him with a hand held up. He has every right to be mad, to hate her. But she can't take that tone of voice from him. It _kills_ her. "Please. Let me talk."

"What are you going to say?" he asks. "I've been over it and over it in my head. You've been lying to me and everyone else for ten years. How do I know that _anything_ you tell me now is the truth? How do I know that there aren't other secrets that you've kept from me? How will I ever look at you without seeing this person I _despise_ looking back?"

"Trust me, Lucas," she says as quietly as he was loud, "I'm not lying about anything anymore. I'll tell you everything if you just give me the chance. As for the other stuff, I don't know how you're going to look at me." She chokes back a sob, thinking of the possibility that he might hate her forever. "I hope we can get past this. That's all I can wish for."

"Just—" Lucas stops whatever it is he's about to say, thinking better of it. He walks around and sits down at the dining room table. Looking up at her, he says, "Maybe you should just start at the beginning."

Taking the seat across from him, she tries to make eye contact but he refuses to look at her. So she does as he asked. She starts at the beginning. "I told you in anger and you questioned whether the baby was even yours." He looks like he wants to interrupt again so she holds up her hand, "My turn. You'll get yours."

When he remains quiet, she continues, "That afternoon, I went home. My mom was there. She was never home, you know that. It was such a fluke. She saw how upset I was and actually listened to me explain myself. Then she asked me the same question you did. How could I be sure it was yours? Was I really that bad, Luke?" It's hypothetical and she wouldn't really want his answer anyway. "I started to think that no one would believe me. And I'd be worse off than your mom even was, if you wanted to deny the baby, because at least everyone knew Dan was scum. And that she was telling the truth. So I told her that it wasn't possible for it to be anyone else's. And she asked me what I was planning on doing. I was scared. I didn't know. Before I could even form a response, she had picked up the phone and made an appointment with her OB/GYN. For an abortion." She whispers the word. She can't believe she ever even thought about it. "Then she acted as if she just did me a huge favor, told me we wouldn't even tell my father, and left me there. Alone. All night long, I thought about it. Would I be a bad mother, like mine? Would my baby feel the consequences of my every poor choice—even if I could stop making awful decisions before it came? I couldn't answer those questions, Lucas. So I decided I would go. And then you showed up. You told me that you thought you would be older, settled, and in love. Remember?"

He nods his head, still showing no emotion. And she continues on, that night coming alive in her memory. She can feel the tears forming, even as she tries to fight it. "You told me that you'd support me, no matter what. But I didn't believe you. I thought you'd hate me more than you already did for even thinking about aborting a child—I thought you'd feel like I was Dan."

"I didn't hate you, Brooke," he tells her. "And I don't even want to think about Dan right now."

She nods, "I thought that I'd just tell you I made it up. You hurt me. I did want to hurt you back—kind of. But I thought an abortion would hurt you more than you deserved. And you already seemed like you were hurting more than I wanted you to be. Part of me was trying to be kind. Save you from knowing that it was even going to happen. Part of me was saving myself from you trying to talk me out of it."

He looks at her for the first time since he came back, steel still in his eyes, "Okay. Even if that's true, you didn't kill him. He's here. How did that happen without me knowing? _Why_ did it?"

"I went to the appointment," she tells him. "If I close my eyes, I can still see it. It was the day after Peyton and I found out about Nikki. That party at the apartment, do you remember that?" Without waiting for an answer, she plows on, "My mom signed the consent forms and then left me there alone to wait for my turn. The nurse kept asking me all kinds of questions. Standard, I thought. Then she asked me if I was sure." She can't keep the tears from falling so she swipes at them violently. Sobbing, she goes on, "I. Wasn't. Sure. I was a kid. I was all alone. I didn't even know for sure what love was. But I. Loved. That. Baby."

Dropping her head to the table, she lets the tears release. She doesn't know how long she stays there but Lucas never once tries to touch her. He doesn't try to comfort her in any way. When she pulls herself up, trying to get her act together, he's watching her with some emotion. Not much, but it's something.

But as soon as they lock eyes, his turn to ice again.

She knows then, that he's _never_ going to forgive her.

_I bleed my heart out on this paper for you.  
So you can see what I can't say.  
I'm dying here._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_(I'm dying here)  
'Cause I can't say what I want to.  
I bleed my heart out just for you._

He _will not_ comfort her. He will not comfort her. He keeps saying it over and over in his head. Everything in him just wants to hold her until all the pain goes away. But he won't. He refuses to give into it. It's a weakness that he can't have.

She's crying because she loved the baby. Because she didn't want to kill him. How sick is that? How sick is he for wanting to fix it for her? To tell her that it's okay?

How messed up is it that his heart is already finding ways in which this was his fault? She's crying because of him. Again. She wanted to get an abortion because he made her doubt him. Over and over. How could he be so dumb?

Instead of giving into the urge to hug her, he asks, "So what happened then? Did you just leave? Is that even legal? What did your bitch of a mother do to you when she found out?"

She looks hurt. He feels ashamed but he can't stop his own pain from talking. He's trying to just stay quiet but it's hard. "I did," she nods. "Mother assumed I went through with it and I didn't tell her any different. Neither did the doctor's office, since it's confidential. I read somewhere that there are states that are safe havens for single mothers. I thought I'd figure out a way to get to one of them before I started showing, give my baby up for adoption and no one would ever find out."

Ah. So she was still planning on deceiving him. She never planned to tell him. If he'd have known that kissing Peyton while he was still with Brooke would have caused all of this, he would have stayed as far as humanly possible away from her. She's not worth it. She never was.

Brooke continues, "Then we were broke. I had no idea how I was going to pay for it. So I never made the plans. I found ways to hide it. And I only gained about five pounds through the first six months of pregnancy."

"Is that even healthy?" he asks. Did Ethan suffer because she watched her weight so closely?

She seems to understand what he's asking. "He was fine. I went to a free clinic for regular checkups. They were concerned about my gaining weight but they said he was healthy. They told me that sometimes young mothers hardly show at all. I hoped and prayed that I was one of those lucky ones. Not because I was afraid to gain weight. Because we were getting close again and I didn't want you to notice. I didn't want you to know I lied. It was selfish, I know. But it wasn't like I was planning on keeping him. So why tell you?"

"Because maybe I would have kept him anyway?" Lucas says, not quite keeping the sarcastic edge out of his voice. "Maybe I'd have stopped falling all over myself trying to get you to see how much you meant to me. Maybe I wouldn't have been such a fool."

He still doesn't know how she kept it from him. He saw her in her pajamas and once, in almost nothing. They hugged constantly. He never felt a difference. Thinking back, he remembers thinking she looked healthier. He thought it was his mom's influence. They'd sit in the kitchen for hours laughing and cooking and baking. He loved how close they were. He remembers the weight. Now that he's thinking about it. He remembers thinking it was a good thing. He remembers _liking_it.

She scrunches her face up as if she's trying to keep herself under control. As it smoothes back out, she starts talking again, as if he said nothing. "I remember the day I left for California. My parents called and told me that if it was okay with Karen, I could stay in Tree Hill for the summer. I knew I couldn't keep hiding it for much longer. I put on more weight during that last two weeks in Tree Hill than I had the whole pregnancy. I thought you or your mom would notice. So as much as I wanted to stay, I decided that I'd go to California and hope that I gave birth out there. I figured I could give the baby up for adoption and not miss much of my senior year, if any of it. I thought maybe I'd be able to come back and we'd be friends and everything would just be fine. And then you kissed me and my whole world shifted on its axis. I had this sudden urge to stay. To tell you. _To keep him_. But I forced myself to go anyway. I cried the whole way to the airport, for every second of the flight, and every mile of the thirty minute drive from LAX to my parents' house. People must have thought I was crazy. When I got there, my parents were surprised to see me. I was so broken down, I just told them everything."

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. He can see that she's trying to move past whatever it is that she's feeling.

He knows how that is. He's trying to move past his feelings, too.

Since his feelings are feeling bad for her. And he doesn't want to feel for her. So he decides to feel for the seventeen year old girl that she was. The girl he loved so much.

Because he won't allow himself to feel sorry for the twenty-seven year old who has kept such an all encompassing secret from him for ten years. But that seventeen year old girl was scared and alone.

And _he_ did that to her.

_I've always dreamed about this moment.  
And now it's here and I've turned to stone._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_I stand here petrified,  
As I look you in your eyes._

Lucas's emotions are warring all over his face. She doesn't know what he's decided on because sometimes it seems like he's trying to understand and others, he seems like he never will. So she continues on, there's not much left to the story anyway.

"My mom was _furious_ that I didn't abort and I was six months along by then. It was illegal to abort at that point. And dangerous. My father was furious that I dared to come out there and attempt to dirty the name he was trying to make for himself. He thought I should have stayed and let your family," she puts up her fingers and makes quotes with her hands, "since they have more experience with teenage pregnancy, deal with it. Both of them agreed that I should stay in the house, tell no one, and give the baby up when I gave birth."

She laughs, feeling absolutely no humor but remembering how that conversation went. "The issue was that somewhere between you kissing me and LAX, I decided to keep him."

He seems conflicted about her revelation. She can almost _feel_ his emotions now. She just doesn't know what they mean. "Not for us," she wants to reassure him. "I still wasn't sure there could _ever_ be a you and me. But because I knew that I couldn't give him up. I knew that the longing for him would never go away. Just like the way I longed for you didn't. They went crazy when I said I wasn't giving him up. For two months, I was basically locked up in my room. What I said, later that year, wasn't a lie. All I wanted, every minute of those two months, was to be with you. I wrote letters. More than one a day, sometimes. I gave you the ones that I knew wouldn't give it away but there are letters that tell you all about it. I still have them. If you want them now, I mean. Then on the ninth of August, my Great Aunt Charlotte brought my breakfast up to me. For the next day, we spent hours talking about why I wanted to keep him. What I thought he needed. She told me that she'd be happy to take him until I finished school. That even if you and I could work it out, it'd be easier for us if we didn't have a baby to take care of during our senior year of high school."

She remembers the pleading her aunt did. She remembers feeling helpless, as if she would hurt her aunt if she said no to the proposal. She remembers feeling like she was being backed into a corner that she couldn't get out of.

"So you told her yes," Lucas surmises. "You told her she could have him for that year, while we finished school, and then you were going to take him back?"

She shakes her head, "I told her I'd think about it. I still had three weeks before he was due. We were supposed to go back to school the week I was due. My parents already told me that I could just be a few days late. You see," she tries to reason with him; "they thought that you got them to let me stay because you knew about the baby. And I made the mistake of telling them that I hadn't told you. They used it against me a lot. They kept telling me that you were still your father's son—something I witnessed firsthand those last few months of junior year. I was worried that you would change your mind about me. I'd lied to you. And then I kept the truth from you. I didn't know how I was going to tell you. But I swear, I wanted to."

"Well, maybe you should pinky swear, Brooke." His voice is so mean that she pulls back as if she'd been slapped. That's what it feels like. She watches him mentally cool himself down and try again, "Maybe you should have called. I would have told you to come home. Have the baby here."

"I did call," she says, much less confident than what she'd previously been, which wasn't much to begin with. But she had thought that maybe she was gaining some understanding from him. She was wrong. "I called that night, after everyone was asleep. No one answered at your house. You didn't answer your cell phone. So I called Peyton to see if she knew where you were. You were with her. It was well past midnight on the east coast and _you_ were with _her_."

She still remembers what _that_ felt like. Even now, knowing that nothing happened between them that summer, she can feel the sting of hearing his voice in the background.

It sent her into early labor.

_My head is ready to explode.  
I bleed my heart out on this paper for you._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_So you can see what I can't say.  
(I'm dying here)  
'Cause I can't say what I want to._

He was with Peyton. Ugh. Someone should just shoot him and get it over with. What's worse is that he doesn't hear any blame in her tone. She's not accusing him. Just stating facts.

He can't even remember why he was there. He probably just couldn't sleep and needed someone to talk to.

"I rushed Peyton off of the phone. I told her to tell you that I'd call you with my flight information. Remember?"

He does. He had gotten so excited that she called looking for him. He took it as a sign that she was missing him. That things would be great between them just as soon as she got back. Though he was upset that she had to go so quickly, so fast that he didn't even get to talk to her, he was excited that he'd see her soon. It never crossed his mind that it was late and she'd be bothered by him being with Peyton. He left almost immediately after she ended the call, thinking he'd be able to sleep better knowing that Brooke missed him.

He did. Sleep better, that is.

"I had to go because—I'm not saying you guys did anything that summer. I trust you didn't." She breaks off in the middle of her sentence to reassure him. He knows right away that what she says next isn't going to be something good. "But, I don't know. Hearing your voice, there. _With her_. It sort of…"

"What, Brooke?" He sounds a lot harsher than he wants to. But why is she drawing this out. God! He just wants to know. He tries to soften his voice, without much luck. "What did it do?"

She takes a deep breath in and holds it for a while. When she releases, she looks right at him, "I had him that night. Well, early morning. I went into labor when I heard your voice."

He closes his eyes and tries not to feel the onslaught of guilt that hits him like a tidal wave. "Was he okay? That means he was born early. Were you okay, Brooke?"

It's years of habit, he tells himself. Making sure she's okay. He can't stop just because he wants to.

She nods. "We were fine. But in the hospital, Aunt Charlotte made me see that you being there meant that you weren't ready for a baby yet. You weren't ready for that commitment. I signed him over to her, on a temporary basis. Our agreement said that I could have him back when I graduated high school. No questions asked."

She holds up her hand when he starts to talk, saying, "Let me just finish and then you can say whatever you want. You can ask whatever you want. I'll tell you anything. I didn't tell you in the beginning because I was scared. And then we were together and there were so many times when I just wanted to tell you the truth. I wanted to give you the picture of him and me in the hospital—the only picture I had of him until about five years ago. But something always stopped me. I don't think I ever felt secure enough to believe in us getting through me lying to you like that. That's my issue. You had a right to know. I was completely wrong. I know that. I've always known it. But then Peyton told me that she loved you and you told me about the kiss. And everything was so messed up. And I was _so_ sure that I had done the right thing. Not telling you left you free to be with _Peyton_—that's who you wanted. I just wanted you to be happy. I realized that not telling you was my way of making sure you weren't tied down too young. After we graduated, my parents told me that they'd help with the company so I could have something to give to Ethan. If I just left him there for another year or two. After you came to New York—"

She stops, taking several breaths. Trying to calm herself. She got more and more hysterical as she went on but he knew Brooke. She was doing her absolute best to not fall apart a second time. "I needed him. I went through all of these moments where I'd hear babies crying or I'd see a two year old in the park, and I'd just lose it. I told them that I couldn't anymore. I wanted my son. They bargained with me. I could get updates over the phone from Aunt Charlotte. They'd sign the Georgia house over to me. And we'd discuss Ethan later. When I got the papers for the house, there was a clause in there that Aunt Charlotte would live the rest of her life there, rent free. Which was fine with me. I'd have never kicked her out. But the clause also said that Ethan had to live there with her. I tried to get them to change it. I couldn't. They owned half of my company and I had no choice. It was take the deal or go get Ethan with _nothing_. They said it was for the best." There are tears rolling silently down her cheeks but she doesn't acknowledge them. He wants to; his hands are itching to brush them away. He clasps them together so as not to touch her. "When I finally left New York, I talked my Aunt into sending me pictures, too. Just between us. She would send me bundles. He seemed so happy there. I didn't want to disrupt that. I mean, I wanted to. I wanted him. But I thought I'd probably waited too long. She asked me to come visit. Be his mama. I couldn't do that long distance. I hurt enough."

She laughs that humorless laugh again. "I know. Me, me, me. That's all I thought about. I should have never let them talk me into it in the first place. I was weak. I stayed weak. Now, he hates me and you hate me. And everyone else is going to hate me. I know I deserve it. I deserve it. I know I do."

She's breaking down again. Her head drops to the table and the sobs wracking through her are shaking her so bad that her head is pounding against the wood of the table. He can't stop himself from walking over and pulling her into a hug.

He wishes he could. But he has to comfort her. Just a little bit.

He's weak, too.

"Shh, Brooke," he tells her. "You were young. He doesn't hate you. No one hates you."

Silently, he says, _I hate me_. I did this. She was never secure in our relationship. There wasn't ever a moment where she trusted him enough to tell him that he had a son. She may have lied. But he forced her to.

She looks up at him as her body calms down, "Do you think you could ever forgive me?"

He shakes his head, "Brooke, I don't want to do this. We can't have that talk."

He doesn't want to think about it. He wants to hate her. Forgiveness isn't something that's going to come easy. Because even if he did it—even if this is all his fault—he couldn't fix it if he didn't _know._ She didn't even give him a chance to try.

"Luke," she cries, "I need you to forgive me. I need to know that it's something that can be forgiven."

He steps back, releasing her from his grip. He should _not_ have tried to comfort her. "I can't!" He's yelling and thankful that no one else is here. "I can't. You made me Dan, Brooke. My _son_ felt abandoned and unwanted and if you don't think that's the truth, you need to look into his eyes. I know what that looks like. I know what it feels like. And I swore to myself that I'd never let _any _child of mine feel like that. Why the hell do you think I'm trying so hard with Peyton? I don't want Sawyer to ever feel anything less than loved. By two parents. And now I find out you gave birth to a baby and handed him over—and I don't care that they forced you, or whatever. If you would have told me, we'd have went and got him. We'd have been a family! He would be a kid. Not a grown up in a little boy's body. He thinks no one loved him enough. No one but your aunt, who's gone now. Do you know what that feels like? _You made me Dan."_

_I bleed my heart out just for you._

_**-x-b-x-l-x**_

_And it's all here in  
Black and white and red._

"You said you wanted to be older and settled." It's like a switch has been flipped and she needs to go back at him. "In _love_! Which implied that you couldn't love me. I did it for you, Luke. I did it for you. Every decision I've ever made is connected to you. Your happiness. I don't know what it feels like to be unloved? Hell, you had Karen and Keith. I had my parents. Unloved? Check. Unwanted? Double check. The only person, save Mrs. Sawyer, who ever made me feel loved was Aunt Charlotte. I _knew_ he'd feel love there. I trusted her. I did it for you."

"Well," he tells her, vilely, "the next time you do something for me, why don't you ask my opinion first?"

Suddenly, it's like all of the fight has drained out of her. "Lucas, this isn't going to get us anywhere. Why don't we just talk about now? We can pick up with this other conversation some other time when we're both more composed. When we've had more time to think about it all."

He nods, looking only slightly less ready for a fight, and goes back to the seat he'd vacated a few minutes ago. "I want to see him. A lot."

"Are you going to take him from me?" It's been on her mind a lot lately. "Victoria and Julian both seem to think you're just gonna take him, get custody, and move back to New Zealand or something."

He looks perplexed. "Did you tell Julian about this?"

"Not until last night," she tells him, honestly. "Are you going to take him, Luke? Because I know he seems to like you more but I really want to get to know him. Please, at least keep him in Tree Hill."

"Brooke," he interrupts her, "you are his mother. Maybe you haven't been much of one but I'm not about to tear him away from you. You are going to _be_ his mother. But let's get one thing clear," he pauses, "_I am his father._ No one else. So… it was really nice of Julian to give us this time to talk or whatever. He can just keep giving us this space. He will _not_ play daddy to my son. I don't care if you can't give him any of his own."

She cringes at his reference to her fertility issues. He used to be the only one who was sensitive to her where that was concerned. Not anymore. She resists the urge to laugh—nervously or at the cruel joke that life has played on her. "I don't think you have to worry about that. He's gone. I don't know if he's coming back."

Lucas nods. "So we've both agreed. We're the parents. We'll make up the other rules as we go. Right now, I think we need to just talk to him. Get to know him. Let him get to know us. He can live here but I'll want to take him sometimes. And I'll want a pass to come over here, with Sawyer if I have her, anytime I want to see him."

"You have a key," she reminds him. "You're welcome anytime. So is Sawyer."

He shakes his head at her. "I don't think we need any of this in writing. Not _yet_. We used to be friends, Brooke. I don't know if we'll ever be there again but for now, we need to be civil. We need to be able to trust each other. And we have to agree to talk to each other about Ethan. Anything concerning him runs through the other parent. Deal?"

She feels herself tearing up once more. There he goes again with the use of past tense. _Used to be. _ "I'm still your friend, Luke. Even if you aren't mine. And you have a deal. We'll do this together."

He nods again. "Well, then. I'm going to go get my children from Nathan and Haley's. I thought I'd take him over to the rivercourt. Is that okay with you?"

"You're bringing him back tonight?" she asks, unsure of how this is supposed to work.

"He'll be back for bedtime."

With that, Lucas gets up from his seat and walks out of her house. No good-bye. _Nothing._

While she wants to be happy that he's giving her a chance with Ethan, she can't help but be sad that he's not giving her another chance.

She just lost the only boy she ever _truly_ loved.

_(I'm dying here)  
'Cause I can't say what I want to.  
I bleed my heart out just for you._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_For all the times-  
Those words were never said._

He pulls off of the road a block before the gate entrance to Nathan and Haley's community. He just can't drive anymore. The tears that were blurring his vision finally hit him full force. He lets his head drop to the steering wheel and sobs.

Why did she do this to _them_? Why was he such an _idiot_ teenage boy?

Why wasn't his complete devotion enough for her?

She never trusted him. It keeps repeating over and over in his head. He never made her feel secure enough. Maybe she didn't do this to them. Maybe he did. It's at least partially his fault.

She didn't believe in him. And that _kills _him.

He's known for a long time that he screwed up with her. He should have told her, right away about the library. He should have let Peyton fend for herself more. He should have called her. Told her about the HCM sooner. If he could do things different, she'd know how much he loved her. He'd appreciate her to the nth degree. She'd never doubt him. But he messed up and he had to accept that she was never going to want him again. When she deigned to be his friend after all of that mess, he thought he got pretty lucky.

At least she still had love for him. That's what he thought. But maybe she never did. Because if she didn't trust him enough to believe that he was telling the truth when he said he wanted her, not Peyton, then he doesn't know how she loved him. How do you love without trust?

He doesn't know.

He can't deal with this anymore today, though. Ethan and Sawyer are waiting for him.

He composes himself and pulls back onto the road toward his children. He just can't think about their mothers right now.

Either of them.

_I bleed my heart out just for you.

* * *

_

**So. Did it live up to what you guys wanted? Don't forget to review! I hope you enjoyed.**

**xx-Cor**


	5. The Only Exception

**Hey guys. I told ya'll that eventually, I'd stop updating so frequently. In my defense, I have a good reason. Lots of stuff going on in real life right now. I've had this written for a while, but I couldn't post it because I didn't have a song. I buckled down this morning and found a song, though, because I've been hearing about the premiere and I wanted to update to counteract it. So I don't break down and watch. In eight years, it's the first time I didn't watch the premiere. **

**Onto another topic—I told ya'll that I was trying to personally respond to everyone's reviews. And I have been doing that. There are exceptions. I'm going to start with the one that I wanted to respond to, but couldn't because that person had PMs turned off.**

**rosiepine- Thank you for seeing both sides. It is absolutely what I most want a reader to take away. That while, yes. Poor Brooke. But Lucas didn't do anything in the last ten years that makes him deserve this. NOTHING actually could make him deserve THIS. Being Dan. It's his worst nightmare. Yes, he's probably going to eventually push to have Ethan be a Scott in name. Ethan isn't a random name but thank you for loving it. :) It IS Brucas.. and thank you for having faith that they'll overcome it. I believe they will too ;) Thanks for reading. I hope you continue to enjoy!**

**Also—bonus points if someone can tell me why I named him Ethan. (with, ya know, exceptions- I'm looking at you ,Tanya. And anyone else I've already told.) **

**Number two (this is going to be a long AN, just so you know.)- there are two or three people who I didn't respond to, even though it took everything in me not to. I'm going to respond to them now. And since I can't think of any better way to put it, I'm just going to copy and paste something I said in a DLA AN.- ****Two, and this is a very big one. And I'm very sorry if it offends anyone. I write for two reasons. 1) it helps me to release whatever emotions I'm feeling and 2) I feel like Lucas gets a raw deal and his motivations are never made clear and I always intend to fix that in my writing. Always. I know that I ask you to review. I want everyone to review, good or bad. I'm okay with constructive criticism. . . I just want to state that for the record, I love Lucas. I don't hate him on the show- so I most certainly do not hate him in my writing. And I'd never write Lucas in a way in which I felt portrayed him badly. I'm sorry if some of you think he's being an ass. I'm sorry if some of you feel he's not treating Brooke right. . . .Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is if you're so used to hating Lucas that you can't open yourself up to a decent Lucas- that's fine. Either, don't read. Or keep the Lucas hate (in reviews) to a minimum. It really affects my ability to write- if someone hates my Lucas.**

**I mean that. I actually almost chose to just delete this story. At least in DLA, I could almost get what some people were saying when they bashed Lucas. Almost. In this story, Lucas is not in the wrong. He was wronged. I know everyone loves Brooke. And that's okay- I love her, too. But it's okay for our favorite characters to have flaws. It fleshes them out. It makes them human. She made a mistake. A BIG ONE. And even if Lucas himself is blaming himself for it, he really IS NOT to blame. And while I'm okay with someone saying, hey, I feel bad for Brooke… but I get where Lucas is coming from. I'm not okay with someone saying Poor Brooke- LUCAS SUCKS! He didn't do anything to deserve that. He may have married Peyton, blah blah blah.. but he did not do anything that warrants his son being hidden from him for YEARS. So, if your review is going to be two or three lines of LUCAS SUCKS, please, just don't review. I'm fine if you don't review. I'd like you to… but if it's going to be negative energy that isn't constructive, keep it to yourself. Thanks.**

**So, on that note, onto the story. I don't own the characters or the song. FYI.**

* * *

_When I was younger,  
I saw my daddy cry,  
And curse at the wind.  
He broke his own heart,  
And I watched,  
As he tried to reassemble it._

The moment Nathan opens the door; Lucas walks through into the house, this morning's hesitation long forgotten. He doesn't even greet his brother, beyond a curt hello, before going to look for his children, probably because he can't get into it with him right now.

He finds Haley on the deck off of the kitchen with Sawyer. When he steps outside, he sees that Jamie and Ethan are down by the lake on a swing set. Nathan follows him out and Haley's sympathetic eyes look up at him from her position on the deck.

"Did you know, Hales?" he can't help but ask the question. Was he the only one who didn't know? Is Peyton out of town because she didn't want to be here when it all blew up?

Sawyer, hearing his voice, pushes herself up to her feet and runs to him, squealing for him to pick her up. He drops down to her level and draws her in, close to him. "Hey baby," he whispers to her, "Are you having fun with Aunt Haley?"

"Uh-huh, Daddy," his little girl nods her head and smiles the same big grin that he saw on his son a few hours ago.

He can't help but return her smile and get caught up in her. "What have you been doing?"

"Blocks," she points to the legos that Jamie probably forgot about a long time ago. And then she points out to the boys, "Jamie and Ethan helped. Look."

Her finger goes to a very shaky building that's about as tall as her. And he smiles bigger. Hopefully, Ethan and Sawyer will move right in to being siblings. He might have a hard time adjusting to a dad or a mom but Sawyer's easy to love. "Baby, do me a favor?" she looks up at him with serious eyes. Daddy doesn't ask for many favors. "Run down to Jamie and Ethan and tell Ethan that we're going to leave. Okay? Go around that way." He points to the path furthest from the pool. "Stay away from the water."

She shakes her head and walks down the path he pointed to. When she's out of hearing range, he turns to Haley. "You gonna answer me?"

"I didn't know, Luke." She tells him. He can see she's being honest. "But last night, I had a feeling."

"What do you mean, you had a feeling?" he asks her. "It's not like a spidey sense can just pick up on Scott children. Mine doesn't, at least."

She looks around, as if the right words are eluding her. Finally she looks up at him and says, "Well, you tried to help her. She backed away. She covered his face."

"Brooke doesn't like help. It doesn't take rocket science to know that."

"Yeah," she says, "you're right. But he's almost as tall as her. He probably weighs about seventy-five percent of Brooke's weight, and he was asleep. So that's all dead weight. And she used one hand to hold him, while covering his face with the other. She wouldn't have shifted his weight like that if she wasn't trying to hide his face."

He nods but doesn't say anything. Why didn't he notice that? Haley continues, "Then she basically completely side-stepped when you asked how they were related. And, you know, I guess I … Don't take this the wrong way, Lucas…"

He looks at her and tells her the only thing he can. "I can't promise anything right now, Haley. But you will tell me anyway. Because I'm your best friend. And you know that I'm putting myself through hell trying to figure out how I didn't know. How I never knew."

"I guess," she starts again, slowly with a lack of confidence that wasn't there before. "When I was pregnant with Jamie, she was there for me. Sometimes, she knew what I wanted before I did. She knew how to hide it, until I was ready to tell Nathan. I never even thought about it, really. I just thought she was being a really great friend. She _is_ a really great friend. But last night, when she went to hide his face. I just knew. I knew there was a reason she knew how to hide it so well. And maybe that there was a reason she never fully got over you. And if that were the case, maybe they were connected."

Lucas rolls his eyes and shakes his head at his best friend. "I guess I can't really be mad at you if you just figured it out. I don't want to be mad at you anyway. But don't say things like that, Hales. She's been over me for a long time. She didn't trust me enough to let me know that I had a son out there in the world. I don't even know if that's the right way to put it. She was never really under me to begin with if she didn't trust me. There is no love where there is no trust."

"Lucas," Haley starts, "now you know that's not true. You know how much she loves you."

He nods, watching his son take his daughter's hand and start back up the path. "I know that I thought we loved each other very much. So much so, that I just thought that it wasn't really supposed to go away. If you ever want a remedy for that love, just hide a baby from the person you feel that way about. I can promise you, he won't love you anymore."

"You don't mean that, Luke." Nathan finally jumps in. "She messed up, sure. But you have a son to raise. Together. You can't hate her."

He turns toward the path that Sawyer and Ethan are on. They're almost within hearing distance now. "Of course I don't hate her. And we'll have to co-parent. But that's it. She's not my friend. She's not even my ex-girlfriend. What happened between us senior year was a lie. _Her_ lie. And that's final."

Sawyer chooses that moment to let go of Ethan's hand and run toward Lucas. "I got him, daddy!" she exclaims, "Where we going?"

Ethan is on the deck now, looking up at him. He's not frowning but he's not smiling either. Lucas knows that look. He sees it in the mirror all of the time. He's brooding.

"Uncle Lucas!" Jamie's arms fly around his neck. "I missed you so much. Did you know that I'm gonna have a sister? Well, mom is. But still, she's mine, too. Like dad said Sawyer's Ethan's sister. And now, I'll have one, too."

He smiles at his nephew. "A sister, huh? I didn't know that." His eyes travel over to Haley, who isn't showing at all. "I didn't know it was a girl."

"Technically," she tells him, while watching her son for disappointment, he's sure, "it's not. Yet. But I feel like it is. A girl, I mean."

Lucas smiles at Jamie, "Well, I know all about being a big brother, if you need a few pointers. I have a little brother and a little sister."

Jamie laughs. "Dad's not little but I guess Lily is."

He looks over at Ethan, who is still standing off to the side and tries to will him into the fray. He just wants his son to be happy. As if she can feel that will, Sawyer walks over to her brother, a word she probably doesn't know or understand yet, and takes his hand. "Daddy said we're leaving."

Lucas chuckles. He knows that's Sawyer's way of saying she's ready to go. To not share him with Jamie. "Alright, Jamie. I have some things I have to do. And Aunt Brooke is gonna want Ethan home before bedtime so," he wraps his arms around his nephew. "God, I've missed you. We'll see you soon, okay?"

They break apart and Jamie nods. "Just don't leave again, okay?"

Lucas smiles. "Not going anywhere. Promise."

He walks over to Haley and gives her a big hug and a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for sending me over there this morning."

He bends down, picks up Sawyer's diaper bag, and walks over to his kids. When his arms swoop down to pick up Sawyer, he makes eye contact with Ethan. "Maybe you want to say bye to your aunt and uncle and Jamie?"

Sawyer takes that to mean her, wiggling out of his arms to run to Haley and say her good-byes. Ethan is less enthusiastic but he nods. He walks over to Nathan first, hugs him, they whisper, and then he moves onto Jamie. They promise to play another game soon. Finally, he goes to Haley and politely thanks her for lunch. Lucas notices he doesn't say their names. Figuring out that he's trying his best not to let them be family, Lucas sighs. This is going to be hard.

He remembers the first time he met Royal and May. It was like pulling teeth. And he still doesn't think of them as his grandparents.

Sawyer walks back over to him and puts her arms out, ready to be picked up. He lifts her up this time and smiles at Ethan who is also at his side. His free arm reaches out for his son. Ethan doesn't flinch away, to his credit, but he stiffens just a little bit. Lucas nods at Haley and Nathan and then leads his son through the house and out to his car.

_And my mama swore that,  
She would never let herself forget.  
And that was the day that I promised,  
I'd never sing of love,  
If it does not exist._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_But Darlin',  
You are the only exception._

His dad came to pick them up at Jamie's house, just like he said he would. He overheard his aunt and uncle talking and thought that it would take him a lot longer to come for them. Haley seemed to think that _Lucas_ was going to be really upset.

If he is, he can't tell. He's smiling at his little sister in the mirror, singing a silly song. Every once in a while, his eyes find Ethan's. He tries but he just can't seem to make himself smile. If anything could, though, it would be the way his little sister laughs every few lines at their dad.

His little sister. She looks so much like him that he almost can't believe she's not Brooke's, too. He wonders what her mom looks like and where she is. Wherever she is, Sawyer doesn't seem to miss her at all. At Sawyer's age, he remembers missing Brooke a lot. Aunt Charlotte talked about her all the time. He remembers wondering what she smelled like. If she gave big hugs or small ones. If she loved him, like Aunt Charlotte said she did. Maybe no one tells Sawyer about her mom. Maybe that's why she doesn't miss her.

Uncle Nathan called her Peyton. He wonders if Brooke knows her. If Brooke likes her. He wonders if he'll have to know her. If she'll like him. Or if she'll be mad that he exists.

Aunt Charlotte always said that his dad was the love of Brookie's life. He wonders if it hurt her when he had a baby with someone else. He wonders if he should care if it hurt her.

After all, she hurt him.

Just then, Lucas makes an abrupt turn. His eyes find Ethan's and Lucas smiles at him. "I was just going to bring you to my house. Talk to you. But you've had a lot to deal with lately, right?" He continues without waiting for Ethan to answer him. "It sounded like you had a lot of fun with Jamie playing ball. Maybe you'd wanna play a game with me?"

He seems so hopeful and Ethan can't bring himself to hurt Lucas. He knows that Lucas didn't know about him. He even knows that Lucas would have never left him with Great Aunt Charlotte. He doesn't know how he knows that—it's just something he senses. But at the same time, there's a little three year old left over in him. He wonders why his dad isn't with his mom. Why isn't Sawyer their baby? And if he hurt her, did he know he was hurting her?

And again, why does he even care when she doesn't care about him?

Lucas must sense his hesitation because he goes on. "There's this little court I used to play on. It was my favorite place in the world. I wanted to show it to you. You know, when I found out I couldn't play anymore, I closed off. I shut everyone out. And came here. Your mom found me here. I want you to know this place is here. Since Tree Hill's gonna be your home, if you ever need to go somewhere to think, this is a good place for that."

"But then you and Brooke would know where to find me," he tells him, without any hesitation.

Lucas smiles at him. "You're a smart one. Yeah, we'd know where to find you. But if we knew you were here and safe, we'd also be able to give you space to think."

Lucas doesn't get upset with him for calling his mom, Brooke. And that's enough for him to be convinced into playing. Plus, he wants to see if his dad is as good as Nathan. And maybe find out why he can't play.

When they pull up, he sees why his dad likes it so much here. It's beautiful.

_You are the only exception._

_**-x-b-x-l-x- **_

_Maybe I know, somewhere,  
Deep in my soul,  
That love never lasts.  
And we've got to find other ways,  
To make it alone.  
Keep a straight face._

Brooke is sitting on her couch, staring out into oblivion. She doesn't know how long she's been there, only that the wall seems to have disappeared. She can see through it now to the bay outside her door. Past the bay, through the town she grew up in, and over a hill is a basketball court by another body of water. She can see it clearly.

Lucas said he was going to take Ethan there. He's probably going there for more than just their son. He needs to think. She remembers a time when he loved her so much that he shared that court with her. He told her that it was his world. That she was the biggest part of his world. And she, for some God forsaken reason, chose not to believe him.

She chose not to let him all the way in and then threw the fit of the century when she felt like he wasn't letting her into a small part of his life. During a time when he had every right to shut down, she made it worse for him. That was probably her guilt, hindsight tells her that. She must have known that she wasn't going for Ethan. She must have known that she was never going to tell Lucas, of her own volition, about his son. And she just kept pushing him away—he said that's what she was doing—because she never felt like he needed her.

He did everything he could to make her feel loved and she never did. Maybe there's something wrong with her. Maybe she's unlovable.

With her luck, he'll have their son loving him by the end of the night and neither one of them will even be talking to her. Where will that leave her? Worse off than earlier this week, when she was just sad that she couldn't have them with her on her wedding day. Now they're both in front of her and she still can't have them.

At least Lucas isn't going to take Ethan away. She had been so worried that Ethan would just go with Lucas and she'd be left without a chance to get him to understand.

All of a sudden, she feels the couch sink down next to her. She doesn't need to turn to know it's Haley's arms that are wrapped around her. Years of hugging her are enough to just know the hug.

Haley's hands reach up and wipe at tears that Brooke didn't even know she was crying. "Well, Nate and I discussed it. And he thought I should give you both some time. But I needed to see for myself that you were okay."

Brooke shakes her head and smiles through the tears in her hazel eyes. "I thought you'd be as mad as Lucas."

"Luke's not mad, Brooke," Haley tells her. "He's hurt."

Brooke shoots her a look. "You did not hear him. He's mad, Hales. He hates me."

"He's not…" Haley sighs. "Okay, maybe he's a little mad. But he's more hurt and he could never hate you. You're Brooke Davis. He's Lucas Scott. It's not possible for him to hate you."

"In this case, I think the world makes exceptions. And if he doesn't hate me, I'm sure his wife—who, by the way, he's also _really_ mad at but I wasn't in the position to ask why—will fix that right up. She's going to tear me and Ethan to shreds when she finds out. Where is she?"

"I don't know, he said she went to see some band play or something. He's mad at her? What makes you think that?"

Brooke shakes her head. "I don't know, Hales. It was in the way he said her name. Like remember senior year, whenever we'd see Chris or hear him on the radio or even that time he picked us up on the side of the road, Lucas's voice just got really sarcastic. And mean. He talked about her in passing when we were screaming blame at each other and he talked about her in that same voice."

"You were screaming at each other?" Haley asks, "I guess it's a good thing Nate took Ethan home with him. "

"Yeah," she looks into her best friend's warm brown eyes. "Thanks for that. How was he? Did he seem okay?"

Haley nods, "He seemed fine. A little quiet, especially at first. He really liked Sawyer. And she took right to him. He's a really good basketball player for having never been on a team. Jamie liked him a lot, too. He went with Lucas, when he came to get him. But it was like he was walking to an execution. His whole demeanor changed when Lucas started to interact with him. It's almost like he's afraid to have us as a family. Which I guess is normal."

"He hates me," Brooke tells her.

"Brooke," Haley says, softly. "He does not. He doesn't know you. Or any of us, really. But he does want to know you. He asked Nathan if you'd be okay alone with Lucas—because he seemed really mad. He asked Jamie questions about you. You and Lucas. Give him time. Prove to him over and over that you love him. You're so good with foster kids. You know how this works. I know that it sucks because he's yours…" she shakes her head like she doesn't want to say anymore. Brooke urges her on. She wants to know what Haley really thinks. "You kind of did this to yourself. But that doesn't mean he hates you. It just means you have to work twice as hard to prove you love him. And I know you do."

Brooke wraps her arms around Haley. "I really, really do, Hales. I know I did this. I thought it was for the best, for him, though, I swear it to you."

"I know you did, Brooke. If I didn't know that, I wouldn't be here. I'm here because the Brooke Davis I know and love, the girl who stood by me when I got pregnant senior year, the girl who loved my best friend with everything in her even when he didn't know it, and the woman who continued to love him and everyone else, including my son, around her, would not have done this if she didn't think it was the right thing to do."

Brooke feels her eyes start to fill again. "I wish Lucas could understand that."

"He will, Brooke." Haley tells her. "You just need to give them both some time."

They sit there silently for a good twenty minutes. Haley just being there as Brooke's shoulder and Brooke taking that chance to lean on someone, for a change.

"Time, you can give them. That doesn't mean you need to give them space." Haley tells her, "Why don't you ride out to the rivercourt and watch your son play?"

Brooke smiles. Why didn't she think of that?

_And I've always lived like this.  
Keeping a comfortable, distance._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_And up until now,  
I had sworn to myself that I'm  
Content with loneliness._

He's been playing ball with his dad for a whole hour now. At least. Sawyer got bored and wandered off to the side of the court to play with some leaves. His dad looks over at her every few minutes to make sure she's safe but he's still just playing with him.

Like he matters, too. Like what he wants, matters.

They haven't said much other than Lucas giving him a few pointers on how to better follow through. On better foul shots. He figures Lucas is trying to give him time to figure out what he wants to say. Or to just think.

He's ready to talk. "So, Uncle Nate says you played with him in high school. Why aren't you a professional player, too?"

Lucas sighs deeply. "You sure picked a big question as your first one."

Ethan starts to feel like maybe he made a bad choice and maybe this question will make Lucas not want to spend time with him so he says, "It's okay. You don't have to answer it."

Lucas smiles at him. "No. I want to. You should know anyway. You should probably be checked if your mom didn't have you checked." He notices that whenever Lucas talks about Brooke, he makes sure to call her his mom. Like he needs to be reminded. "My heart's sick."

That scares Ethan. "You need your heart, Aunt Charlotte always said. Does that mean you're going to die?"

"No. Not at all. I'm not going anywhere, Ethan." His dad reassures him. "When I was in high school, a few years older than you are now, my real dad got sick. It was his heart. They tested my brother and me for it and I had the same problem as my dad. But because they caught it so soon, I'm fine. I just have to take medicine. The medicine slows me down and I can't play at the same level that I used to anymore. That's all."

He's still not completely reassured but Lucas seems really sure. So that's enough for him. For now. "Your real dad? Did you have more than one dad?"

"Your Uncle Nathan and I have the same father and different moms. Kind of like you and Sawyer. But I swear, it's not quite the same." He looks away and Ethan can feel his sadness. He knows that feeling. "My dad left me with my mom and he raised Nathan with his mom. But his brother, my Uncle Keith, helped my mom raise me. He was like a dad to me."

"I don't have anyone like that," he tells Lucas, a need to assure him that he doesn't quite understand rising up in him. "Just my Aunt raised me, I guess. But I always knew she wasn't my mom. So I didn't even have anyone who was like a mom to me."

Lucas lets the ball drop and checks on Sawyer again. His eyes scan the ground, as if he's seeing something on the blacktop that Ethan can't see, before finding him again. He's more serious when he speaks this time, "Ethan, had I known, I swear to you, _everything_ would be different."

Ethan takes that as his cue to ask the question that he really wants an answer to and he doesn't even know why. But he just needs to know. "Would you still be with Brooke, if you knew? Uncle Nate says you were really in love with her. But Sawyer's not my full sister. We have different moms. Would you still be with Sawyer's mom?"

Lucas walks over to him and takes his hand. Ethan doesn't say anything but he likes it when Lucas touches him. It's like he's a real son. Like he has a real dad. Just like everyone else on the island. They walk over to the bleachers, close to where Sawyer is playing.

"I can't answer that for you," his dad tells him. "I know it's a really, _really_ important question. I can tell because you have my eyes. And I know what I look like when something really means a lot to me. You look like that right now. But that's a hard question, Ethan. It's a really hard question. I will tell you this. Your Uncle Nathan is absolutely telling you the truth. I was so in love with your mom that I couldn't see anything else. I couldn't see that she had something going on with her. But now, looking back, knowing about you. I see all of these little things. She was sad and I did something that made her think she couldn't trust me. So she was afraid to tell me about you. But, you have to believe this, she missed you so much. I can see that now. I was just too caught up in what I needed from her that I couldn't see why she wasn't giving it to me. I thought it was all about me. And, I guess, in a way, it was. I failed her. But I want you to give her a chance. Because this is more my fault than it is hers. She loves you. She always has."

"But I don't understand," Ethan says to him. "If she loved me, why didn't she keep me? And if you loved her, why didn't she trust you? And why don't you still love her? Aunt Charlotte always told me that love never goes away. She said you were the great love of my mom's life."

That was what Aunt Charlotte said. And Aunt Charlotte _never_ lied to him. She didn't believe in sugar-coating things just because he was a kid. She said kids were just people, in smaller bodies. So it has to be true. They loved each other. She told him that. And then Uncle Nathan did, too. And Lucas just said he loved Brooke. If that's true, why isn't he with her?

Why does he have a sister with a mom named Peyton?

Who is Peyton? And does Lucas love her more? Does that mean that he will always love Sawyer more because he loves her mom more?

_Because none of it was ever worth the risk.  
Well, You, are, the only exception._

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_I've got a tight grip on reality.  
But I can't,  
Let go of what's in front of me here._

Lucas sighs. Man, his son is smart. He asks good questions. He doesn't beat around the bush; he just comes right out with it. It's almost scary how he can get right to the heart of the matter.

He wonders where he got that from since both he and Brooke have become masters at skirting around the real topics over the years.

It's a good question and he can't answer it. Maybe Aunt Charlotte was misinformed because he _is not_ the great love of Brooke's life. He's spent too many nights to count, lying awake at night, wishing that were true. Wishing that Brooke loved him just half the amount that he loved her.

Wishing that she loved him enough to fight for them. Instead of just stepping out of the way, even though he was begging her not to.

And he'll probably spend the rest of his life wondering why she gave up their son and didn't tell him about it. But he _knows_ Brooke. She wasn't lying back at her house. She loves their son. She thinks she did the best thing for everyone. That's just who she is. She makes decisions based on how she _thinks_ other people feel. And though she thinks it's the right thing, sometimes, she's _wrong._ This is one of those times. He doesn't know if he'll ever forgive her for being so wrong. But he needs to help Ethan try to forgive her. Because Ethan and Brooke need each other.

She's his mother. And even though he doesn't know it yet, they love each other too.

As for love, he didn't think his love for Brooke would ever go away. But now he's questioning if it was ever even love to begin with. He doesn't know if there can be love where there is no trust. He sort of feels like he needs his mom to explain it to him. So he can explain it to his son.

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts racing through it at warp speed. He needs to answer his son now. He doesn't have the luxury of calling his mom for an answer first. "When you get to know her, you'll understand that your mom makes decisions in a way that most people don't. Most people aren't strong enough to make choices the way she does. She doesn't think about herself in decision making. So it didn't matter that she loved you, what mattered was that she thought she was doing the right thing for you. And, I guess, for me. I loved your mom but we were both young. And I made some mistakes. That's why she didn't trust me. And I can't answer about Sawyer's mom because that would take Sawyer out of this world. And I love her, too. And, Ethan, I love you. So much it hurts. I want you both in my world. That's all I can say."

It's all he knows. They sit there, silently watching Sawyer ruin another outfit in the North Carolina mud that surrounds his favorite place in the world. He thinks back to a time when his world only consisted of home and this place. He remembers telling this little boy's mom that she was the biggest part of his world. And she was. He meant every word of it.

And she stood there, watching him bring her into every part of his life, letting him soak her into his every pore, all while lying to him. A lie by omission is still a lie. And now, thinking back to every night he spent on this hallowed ground with her, all he feels is betrayal.

Where he used to feel this all-consuming love, he feels empty.

_Lied to._

She did that.

And even though he knows that, he can't help the part of him that whispers, in Brooke's voice, that she did it because of him. The part of him that tells him that this is his fault. The part of him that is thankful to have Sawyer. The part that knows Sawyer wouldn't exist without Brooke's lie. That knows he'd have never gone back to Peyton, regardless of anything else, if he'd have known that Brooke already had his child.

He'd have never given up on Brooke.

And that's what he did, by going to Peyton. He gave up on the hope that he'd ever be that in love again. He let it go and replaced it with something familiar. Something safe. That's what Peyton was.

No wonder their life sucks. It's no wonder that Peyton barely wants to be with him and their child. He chose safe.

And he can't even wish he hadn't because he got his little girl out of it. How sick is that?

"Hey," he looks toward his son. "How bout we play another game before we head to my house?"

He needs to just focus on what he has. Right in front of him. And get Brooke _and_ Peyton and everything wrong that he's ever done out of his head.

Lucky for him, Ethan nods. "I think I might beat you this time."

They fall into a playful banter that wasn't there before and he hopes that they can build on this for the rest of the afternoon.

Until Brooke walks up.

He doesn't see her; he doesn't need to. He can feel her presence, as if he conjured her up. And then Sawyer screams out for her and he knows she's real.

_I know you're leaving,  
In the morning, when you wake up.  
Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream._

_**-x-b-x-l-x- **_

_You, are, the only exception.  
You, are, the only exception.  
You, are, the only exception.  
You, are, the only exception._

It's weird. Sawyer is ecstatic to see her and both of the boys freeze. The one person on this court who should be the least attached to her is the only one who wants to see her.

"Hey, Little Miss," she says to her childhood best friend's daughter. "That is an extremely expensive outfit that your daddy's letting you ruin." She looks over to Lucas and tries for a confident smile. She doesn't think she quite made it. "I should know. I bought it."

Sawyer jumps up into her arms and she can feel Ethan's cringe from ten feet away. "I thought I would come out and watch ya'll play," she tells them. "Your Aunt Haley said you're really good, Ethan. And I haven't seen your dad play in a really long time."

She and Lucas lock eyes and she knows she has a long way to go. But he's not looking at her with the icy blue from a few hours ago, so that's a start. When neither of them says anything to her, she continues, "I'll just go over here. The sidelines are like home to me."

She starts to walk away when she hears her son's voice and for the first time, it doesn't have any hint of sarcasm behind it, at all. "Uncle Nathan said _you_ were a really good cheerleader. Maybe you can teach Sawyer to cheer for me while I kick her dad's butt?"

She smiles, turns around to face him, and nods. "You've got it."

That's also a start. It's not a lot by any means. And he's still not referring to either of them as _his_ mom or dad. But it's something.

Lucas catches her eye again and she can tell he's thinking the same thing. They share a smile. It's not monumental or anything.

But it'll get better. She knows it will.

It _has_ to.

_And I'm on my way to believing.  
Oh, And I'm on my way to believing._

_

* * *

_

**Alright, guys, I know my first AN was long enough for everyone. I won't keep you here. Hope you enjoyed. Please review :)**

**xx-Cor**


	6. Author's Note

Dear Readers:

Hi, all! (If there's anyone left here!) I have had a very busy couple of years. The biggest change of which being that I had a baby! So, I've been really busy lately. However, someone favorited one of my other stories yesterday and I got to reading every one shot I've ever written and now I feel like writing. I'm wondering if anyone is even interested in me updating this story? I would have to read it and go over the chapter I have half written already. But I think there are like 5 chapters left.

So just please let me know via PM or review if I have any readers left please! Meanwhile, I'll start. I'm probably going to update either way. I feel like I need to!

-xxx-

Corey


	7. Scared of Lonely

**So, I wrote a chapter... Or, rather, I rewrote two scenes that I had written over two years ago and then wrote a couple of scenes. I have no idea if it's any good. It's not really long. Actually, I think it's about two pages shorter than I usually make my chapters.**

**Thank you all for the swift and positive response! I'm glad there are still people out there who love BL. While I feel that I'm probably too old for fandom and I'm pretty busy for fandom, I will never get over this fandom and this couple. **

**I have always said that I wouldn't ever leave a story hanging... I know that I left this one for a long time. But hopefully, I will finish it.**

**This song doesn't really go with the chapter. But it _does_ encapsulate how Brooke, Lucas, and Ethan all feel right now. How Brooke and Lucas, and Ethan-probably, have felt for most of their lives. I think it's appropriate.**

**Insert the same old disclaimer here.**

* * *

_I'm in this fight and I'm swinging and my arms are getting tired_

_It's hard, I'm trying to beat this emptiness but I'm running out of time_

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_I'm sinking in the sand, and I can barely stand_

_I'm lost in this dream, I need you to hold me_

"Aunt Brooke, is this your house?" Sawyer smiles up at her.

Brooke's eyes take in the living room and dining room. She's only been gone two hours but there's a mess in the rooms that wasn't there when she left. There are boxes and she can tell that it's Julian's stuff in those boxes.

She looks down at Sawyer and tries to smile at her. "Yes, baby, it is. You know, your mama lived here in this house with me for awhile. I bought it for her and me."

Ethan's head turns toward her and his face is full of curiosity. He must wonder who his stepmom is. She didn't even realize that until this very moment. She's not just sharing her son with Lucas. She's sharing him with Peyton, too. Sometimes she feels like the universe likes to laugh at her, so it plays as many sick, cruel jokes as it can on her. Hasn't she shared enough with Peyton over the years?

_Hasn't she given Peyton enough?_

At that moment, she has to let the thought go because Julian walks out from the bedrooms carrying more of his things.

"What are you doing?" She can't even fathom that he's really going to leave over this. He supposed to love her. She didn't even really do anything to him.

He looks over at them and she tries to separate herself from the group that just walked through the door. Except she's holding Sawyer. And she knows that it looks bad. She knows it looks like she and Lucas were just out together as a family. But he doesn't know the whole story. He doesn't know that Lucas is barely speaking to her.

"I see I was wrong about how he'd react," comes the only response she's going to get from Julian. It's bitter. But then he turns to Lucas. "What, Peyton's not enough for you? You've always wanted both of them. And now you have them. Now, you're your father's son. Two women you love. Two babies. Hey, the brunette even gave birth first!"

Lucas's silence is deafening even as the muscle in his jaw ticks. Brooke knows that look and she knows he's about ten seconds away from swinging a fist. At Julian. Ethan and Sawyer are both looking at the adults in the room, confused. Lucas takes a deep breath and bends down to be eye level with his son.

"Can you do me a favor?" he asks Ethan. Their little boy nods but doesn't say anything. "I need you to take Sawyer outside. Don't go out of the yard or near the bay. Don't let Sawyer go out of the yard or near the water."

"Okay." Ethan looks up at Brooke and smiles at his sister in her arms. "Wanna go outside with me?"

She squirms and Brooke gives her a kiss before putting her down. She smiles at her little boy, so grown up. "Thanks, buddy."

He nods and smiles back at her. It's the first one that he's directed at her. She wishes that she could savor it and not have to deal with what's about to unfold with Julian, between Lucas and Julian. Ethan takes a hold of Sawyer's hand and starts walking toward the back sliding doors.

As if he thinks better of it, Lucas calls out to them. "Wait." When both kids turn around, Lucas bends down and pulls them into a group hug. "I love you both so much. I just needed to say that."

Even though he whispered it, Brooke's close enough to hear the declaration. She smiles. Even if Lucas hates her, he loves Ethan. That's all that really matters. He'll never be Dan.

The children are finally both through the glass doors that block out all noise and Lucas is turning toward Julian. This is going to be a battle.

She knows it just by the gleam in his eye and the tick in his jaw.

_I try to be patient, but I'm hurting deep inside_

_And I can't keep waiting, I need comfort late at night_

_**-x-l-x-b-x-**_

_And I can't find my way, won't you lead me home_

_Cause I'm lost in this dream, I need you to hold me_

Lucas doesn't even know where to start but Julian just crossed a clear line. If he's pissed at Brooke, fine. Get in line. But he is not going to insinuate that he's anything like Dan. He's definitely not going to do it in front of his children, who will know as little about their paternal grandfather as possible.

Julian has gone back to packing. Why Brooke even asked him what he was doing is beyond Lucas. It's clear. He's leaving.

He never was good enough for Brooke. She falls for idiots. He blames himself. It's a cycle.

"Do you even realize you crossed a line, Julian? Or am I going to need to break it down for you?"

"I crossed a line?" Julian asks, seeming incredulous. "You just walked in here with my fiancé, all cozied up, like family. And I crossed the line. Incredible. Do you do no wrong, Saint Lucas? Well, no. Brooke's the saint, right? She does no wrong. Except, she got pregnant in high school and hid it from everyone. I mean, really, Lucas? You didn't know she was pregnant? How do you not know your girlfriend is pregnant?"

Lucas shakes his head. He's been asking himself the same question but refuses to give this coward the satisfaction. "One, she wasn't my girlfriend while she was pregnant. B, neither of us are saints and we don't claim to be. And three, we were bonding with our son. And if this was any other day, I would actually just tell you that Brooke and I _are_ family. But I'm really pissed at her right now. But we've always been family. Always. The five of us. Brooke, Peyton, Nathan, Haley, and Me. Other people come in and out, sure. You, for example. But you aren't a part of that family. That family was formed somewhere during senior year of high school. No one else gets it. But right now, since I'm pissed at her, I'll just say this: Don't mess with her, Julian. And do not mess with me. Or my kids. I've had a really bad day and I might be apt to take it out on you if you attack Brooke again. Or if you bring Dan into this again. What the hell did you mean, I didn't take it like you thought I would?"

"I thought Brooke would be in court fighting for custody. Instead, she's a nice, happy little family with you and the boy. Oh, and your wife's kid. Where is your wife, anyway, Lucas? How's she gonna feel about your bonding with a child she never knew about, with her best friend? I bet she's just going to love it," Julian throws back at him.

He's pressing his luck. Julian knows it, from the look on his face. The only thing that's keeping Lucas from just hitting him like he wants to is the fact that though the kids can't hear through the glass, they can see through it. He's not about to upset either of them.

"Julian." Brooke's voice cuts through the tension, between the two of them. "Please. Don't do this. Why are you baiting him? You're mad at me. Lucas didn't do anything. He was in the dark, just like you. Yell at me. But stop taking stabs at him."

Lucas looks over at her. "Don't defend me, Brooke. You lost that right about ten years ago." It's unforgiving and how he feels but he instantly feels guilty for the way he said it. He pushes past the hurt look on her face. He tries not to see it. It doesn't work. So he tries to make his voice less harsh. "Alright, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Just not today, okay, Brooke? I'm still mad at you." He is. Still mad at her. But he won't let this class A idiot continue to hurl hurtful insinuations at them either. He turns back to Julian. "But just because I'm mad at her doesn't change the fact that she's Ethan's mom. And he's my son. And I'm not my father's son. If Peyton doesn't like it, she'll have to take a lesson from you in packing. She knows how to do it pretty well all on her own but who knows? Maybe when you're leaving for good, it's different. If you wanna know where she is, so the two of you can commiserate, you'll have to take a number. I'd like to know where she is so I can tell her to her face. She's off seeing some band, pissed because we're staying here. So, the fact that Ethan's going to hold me here even more? She's probably not going to like it. You're right. But again, I have no problem with her leaving."

"So, what?" Julian smirks at him and he's itching to just wipe it off his face. "You're okay with her leaving because now Brooke's an option again?"

"Brooke. Is. Not. An. Option." Lucas annunciates every word. And even still, his heart doesn't believe it. If only his heart wasn't broken, maybe he could convince it. "What she and I had… whatever it was. Whatever you're jealous of. It was a long time ago. But more than that, it was a lie. I'm okay with her leaving because she's never really around to begin with. I want Sawyer's mom to be around, just like I want Ethan's in his life. But I'm sick of the heartache it all causes my children. I'm sick of what it does to me. So, Peyton's going to have to realize… he's mine. And if she has an issue, well, I'm not going to let her do any more damage to another one of my kids. Got it, Julian? I know that your mind is being filtered through this intense jealousy you have of a connection between Brooke and me that I'm not sure ever existed and I'm trying to be understanding and not just break your jaw so that you shut up. But if you don't shut up, my understanding will run out. We clear?"

Their eyes are locked; the tension in the air could suffocate someone. Brooke breaks it again by speaking. "Julian, maybe you should just go. I'll ship your boxes. Where do you want them sent?"

Lucas is busy watching her. It's fascinating to be on the outside, watching Brooke be calm during a break-up. The difference between then and now is he knows that walking away from him didn't hurt her near as much as letting Julian walk away from her now is. He can see it's slowly killing her. Her breath is hitched and her eyes too wide. She's trying to hold it in. How much this hurts. For that alone, he wants to hurt Julian. She actually loves him. He has Brooke Davis's love. True love.

How could he leave her? Lucas would never have been able to. And he doesn't even have a good reason. It's not like she hid _his_ son from him.

"Brooke," Julian sighs, sounding resigned. "I'm sorry if you're hurting. I really can't tell if you are or not. But if so, I'm sorry. I can't… No. I won't be second best to him. I won't watch you raise his son with him. I won't be his son's stepfather. I really do love you. But…"

"If you loved her," Lucas can't help himself, he has to interrupt him. "If it was real and true, you'd do anything for her. Anything at all." His eyes touch on Brooke again. He knows a boy who would have done anything for her. And she was _lying_ to him. "I know what it feels like to love her. It's not possible that you do. Not if you're leaving over this."

"You're right, Lucas." Julian says, a sneer coming back into his voice. "You really know what it is to love Brooke Davis. That's why you chose Peyton. You remember that, right? You. Chose. Peyton. I'm leaving because of a lie. Because I won't be second best. Again. Forever. You left because you wanted someone else. You really know what it feels like to love her. So much so, you said in writing, in a book you had published, for the whole world to see, that you always loved her best friend. Even while you were with her."

And just like that, Lucas can only see red. Anger taking over, he steps toward Julian, done with caring that anyone can see what he's about to do. Brooke flies across the room and plants herself in front of him. "Don't. Lucas. Don't." She keeps her hand on his chest and turns toward Julian. "Out. Now, Julian. I want you out."

His breathing has evened out, her touch bringing him back to reality, and Julian's eyes are on the two of them, judging. "Not that I need to explain myself to you, Jackass, but it's called an editor. Some of those words were not my own. And I never left Brooke. I never would have. She left me. You have no clue how much I loved her. And now, I really think you should do what she asks. Leave."

He looks between the two of them. Then shaking his head, as if he's given up, says, "Fine. Send them to my dad's address. I'm going out there for awhile. You know, it's a shame that she walked away from you, Lucas. It's a shame you couldn't see how it killed her to do it. It's a shame that now, more people are going to get hurt for you both to realize that it should have been you together all along. And maybe you'll hate me for this. For awhile. But I'm leaving because I refuse to be here when that happens."

"Shut up, Julian." Brooke tells him. "It's enough, already. We're friends. We've always been friends. We share a child. A child I lied about and he hates me for it. There is going to be no realization. Lucas was playing basketball with his son. I went to watch. That's all. You're blowing this way out of proportion."

She drops her hand from Lucas's chest and immediately, he misses it. What is wrong with him? He needs to figure out how to hate her. It's like trying to figure out how to live without air.

It's second nature to love her with everything in him.

She's walking toward Julian now. When she's directly in front of him, she hands him something. "Here. I guess I probably won't be needing this now. Please, go."

Julian nods at her, turns his head up to look at Lucas, and says, "Before you do anything this time, be sure. Stop messing with their heads."

And then he's gone.

Lucas lets out a long sigh and covers his face. Quietly, he asks the only thing he can after all of that emotional vomit. "Have I ever messed with your head, Brooke?"

_I'm scared of lonely_

_And I'm scared of being the only shadow I see along the wall_

_**-x-b-x-l-x-**_

_And I'm scared the only heartbeat I hear beating is my own_

_And I'm scared of being alone_

How does she answer that? Does he even want an answer?

"No, you know what. Nevermind." He interrupts her thoughts. "I can see the answer on your face. Can I just say something?"

She nods at him because she's pretty sure that she lost her power of speech when Julian took her engagement ring and just walked out.

"I never meant to mess with your mind. I never meant to hurt you. I know, obviously I know, that I did, during junior year. I know that. I know I should have told you about the kiss in the library sooner than I did. But I still don't think I hurt you the way you hurt me, senior year. And I'm not even talking about the lying. You walked away. You broke my heart. You wouldn't talk to me." He shakes his head and takes a sad breath, "You pushed me at Peyton. God, what was I supposed to do? Was it a test? I failed then, I guess. I lost a long time ago. And I've been scrambling ever since. But I have always loved you, until this morning. No head games, Brooke. We need to go into this co-parenting with a complete understanding of the other person's side. And that's mine. I didn't get a chance to say it this morning."

She just nods because he seems so sure and she can't really speak anyway. She knows he never meant to hurt her. She's searching for her voice to say something but she really has lost all of her cognitive abilities.

His eyes implore her and he says, "Say something, Brooke. Please."

"I can't." Is that her voice? It's two notches higher than usual and tight. "I'm just trying…"

That's all she gets out. The tears come and she's sobbing full force again. "He's talking about your head games. He was supposed to love me. It was supposed to be a safe bet, marrying him. And he's gone. And you hate me but you loved me this morning. Only, I never knew you loved me. Or, maybe I knew. Just not as much as you're saying you did. My son, the only one I'm ever gonna have, hates me. I'm just really… feeling… unlovable… right now."

His arms come around her and he's holding her tight. "Shh, don't say that. You're not unlovable. No one hates you."

"He was supposed to love me, Lucas." She can't help herself. Falling apart isn't something she does often but when she does, it's hard to stop it. "Just me. Only me."

"It's gonna be okay," he's whispering into her hair. "We're all gonna be okay. You don't need him, Brooke. You have Ethan. He's going to love you so much. Just talk to him. You have me."

She pulls back and looks at him, "You?"

Is he saying he'll be able to forgive the unforgivable? Twice in a lifetime?

"Even when I'm mad at you, you have me. I'm not going anywhere." He's so sincere and for the first time, in a long time, she takes him at his word. And lets him comfort her.

When her sobs are ebbing away, he pulls back. "I'm gonna go say goodbye to Ethan and take Sawyer home. But I'll see you tomorrow."

She nods.

"Brooke," he says, sounding as if he's asking a question.

"Hmm?" she looks up at him. She feels so lost.

"Are you gonna be okay, here, alone with him?"

She smiles, knowing that it's a little shaky. "I'll be fine. We should talk anyway."

He nods. "Okay." He hesitates, then asks, "Can I have the rest of the letters?"

_I can't seem to breathe when I am lost in this dream_

_I need you to hold me_

_**-x-l-x-b-x-**_

_So I hold my pillow tight,_

_To imagine you would stretch your hand looking for mine_

Why did he just ask that? He's not sure he wants to read them. He's not sure he can bare it. What if they heap more guilt on the load he's already carrying.

She looks away from him and he can tell she's scared. "Sure," she starts softly. "I told you that you could. Would you like the pictures that Aunt Charlotte sent to me over the years as well?"

It's his turn to be unsure again. Does he want to see the life that his son has been living without him for the past ten years? Of course. He wants to look at a smiling child in pictures. To know that he was happy and loved. After all, Brooke would never have left him there if she had the slightest inclination that he wasn't happy. She's too nurturing, to caring to have done that. But how can he be sure? He'd never have thought she would do something like this to him. To a child. _To them_. Peyton? Yeah, he could admit to himself that Peyton might have done this. But Brooke. **His** Brooke would never have done this. And then he's back to thinking that maybe he really never knew her at all.

But that can't be true. He can't believe that. He loved this girl so much. He spent hours learning everything about her. He read the letters that she gave him over and over. And just when he thought he'd read them too much, he'd read them once more and realize just how much he loved her again. When he left everyone behind to outrun his daddy issues and the triangles that haunted him for too many years, he still brought those letters. Even last week, while Sawyer slept and Peyton went out on the town, he read a few. Just his favorite few.

_-x-_

_I don't know why I just left. I have so much to say to you, Luke. I don't even know where to begin. I wonder if you know how much I cared about you before. Before everything. Even after what you did, I couldn't bring myself to a place where I didn't care. I've always cared. The problem is, I don't know if you ever did. I can't bring myself to ask you. I don't know if you want me now because you always have, or because you see something new, or, and this would be the worst, because Peyton isn't an option. Don't answer that. I don't think I want to know. I just want you to know that I do care. That my heart is broken with all of the caring. That I need you to care back. In any way that you can give me._

_-x-_

He needs to read the other letters. That open, honest girl that he fell in love with wrote him more letters. He wants—no **needs**- to know what she was thinking. He believes that those letters will help him. Whether they help him to be a friend to a girl who clearly needs her friends right now or just help him to be able to co parent without resentment toward a girl who took everything from him without even asking his opinion. He needs help. Help that only that girl can give him. He needs to talk to the seventeen year old girl he loved more than he has ever loved anyone else.

He shakes his head. "I want the letters. Maybe after I've read them, I'll be able to stomach the pictures. I just can't right now. But I need the letters," he tells her.

She nods and he can tell that it's not what she wanted to hear. He just can't give her that. He can't fathom taking away any of the guilt she's feeling right now. Pictures will not give him back the last ten years. She turns toward the bedroom and he takes that as a cue to go get Sawyer and say goodnight to Ethan.

Walking out the back door, he hears them talking. About his mom.

"Grandmom Karen has Aunt Lily," Sawyer tells Ethan, matter of factly.

Ethan looks very interested in what she's saying. "Who's Aunt Lily? Is she old like your Dad and Brooke?"

Sawyer laughs. "No, silly. She's a kid. Like us. Anyway, they live where I live. It's far, far away. I never even sawed Aunt Brooke in real life until today. Daddy shows me pictures and she sends me things and we talk on the 'puter."

"You don't live here?" Ethan sounds confused and Lucas knows that he has to stop this conversation before Sawyer mixes up things, more than they already are.

"Hey, guys!" He interrupts them on purpose, "Ethan, we do live here. I have a house in the town we drove through to get out here from the rivercourt. We just moved back. We were traveling for a few years."

Ethan still seems like he doesn't understand. "So is that where your wife is? Will she be coming too?"

"Mommy is here," Sawyer informs him. "She came on the plane but she was cranky. I didn't seed her today, have I, Daddy?"

Lucas shakes his head, angry at himself for not ever even trying to figure out where Peyton was today. That's going to make her even more _cranky_ tomorrow. "Mommy had work to do, baby. Maybe you can see her tomorrow," then he turns to his newfound son, "**You **will definitely see me tomorrow. You can count on it."

Sawyer was bobbing her head up and down at her brother now. "Mommy _always_ works but Daddy can work whenever he wants so he has lots of time to spend with the people he loves most. Like me." Then she smiles and does something incredible, "And you, 'cause you are daddy's kid now too."

Lucas brings them both into a big group hug. His kids. He would do everything he could to protect them from all of the evil in this world. He kisses Ethan on the forehead and whispers to him, "Give your mom a chance tonight. She's had a hard couple of days."

It's so easy for him to be generous where she's concerned when he's looking into the big blue eyes of the boy she brought into this world, against all odds, than it is looking into her betraying green ones. He knows he's going to have to work on that for them to have a chance at being successful co parents.

He pulls back and walks them back into the house where Brooke is waiting with a box not unlike the one he has at home.

_I need your strength when nobody is around_

_'Cause I'm tired of this emptiness, I think I'm drowning_

_**-x-x-e-x-x-**_

_I can't be lonely no more_

_Cause I'm lost in this dream, I need you to hold me_

Brooke is holding what looks like a very worn shoe box in the middle of her scattered living room. It looks different from the room he was sitting in just this morning. Instead of a green, tidy room with pictures all over- no pictures of him, though, it's littered with a bunch of half packed boxes and every other place is empty. That guy must have lived here with his mom.

Wondering who the guy was, he knows that he doesn't like him. He was really rude. To his dad. Aunt Charlotte says that you shouldn't say anything at all if you can't be nice about it. He wasn't nice. And he made Brooke cry. How was she supposed to start liking him if just being there was making people be mean to her?

He watches silently as Brooke walks toward his dad. When did he start thinking of him as that? It's so much easier for him to accept that and he doesn't quite understand why. They don't say anything to each other as she gives him the old box. They just look at each other almost as if they don't even remember that him and Sawyer are here. She breaks the eye contact first.

Turning to Sawyer, she smiles. "Don't you be a stranger, little girl. I'm excited that we get to see each other more."

His sister must still be stuck on what they were talking about outside because she says, "Aunt Brooke, do you work like Daddy works? Cause you have lots of time. Mommy doesn't have lots of time but Daddy does."

He catches the confused and surprised look before Brooke makes her face blank. "No, sweet girl. I don't work much at all but your daddy and I do different things. One day, I will explain it to you. I'm sorry your mama doesn't have a lot of time but I'm sure she wishes she did."

She goes on, "Will I see ya'll tomorrow?"

"Daddy says yes," Sawyer tells her, happily just accepting what Brooke says as fact. Ethan wishes it was that easy for him. "We will see Ethan so we will see you. Right, Daddy?"

"Yep," is all that his dad says.

"What about Peyton?" Brooke asks him.

Peyton, he has figured out, is his step-mom. A few of his friends have step-moms. Some are nice and some are not so nice. It's a new source of stress for him. If Peyton doesn't want him around, will his dad be able to love him still?

Lucas shakes his head at her. "I really don't know, Brooke. She left a vague note. She'll show up whenever. I will deal with her."

"I can tell her," Brooke offers. She seems really worried about the idea and kind of surprised it came out of her mouth.

Lucas just continues to shake his head. "No. When I married her, it became my duty to tell her these things. I'll tell her."

And then his dad walks over to him one more time and lays his free hand on his shoulder, "Be good. I'll talk to you tomorrow morning. Love you, kid." He messes up his hair and picks Sawyer up. And they leave him there all alone with Brooke.

He looks at her, not knowing what to say. Not wanting to be awkward, but not being able to help it.

She gives him a shaky smile, still looking like she's ready to cry, and asks, "Do you want to eat? I'm not much of a dinner cook but I can make some grilled cheese. I remember Aunt Charlotte saying how much you love that." She looks uncertain.

He just nods. He does like grilled cheese and he _is_ hungry.

While she cooks, the house is completely quiet. He looks around again and wonders about this woman. Aunt Charlotte loved her. Sawyer clearly loves her. Jamie told him that he loves her too. Jamie told him that he was lucky he got to have Brooke as a mom. She's that awesome, he said. Maybe he could love her. And maybe she'd like him. She doesn't have anything against kids. She could like him if he tried like his dad told him to.

So he takes a deep breath and asks a question. "Who's this baby?"

Brooke looks at the picture of her and his dad, with a baby. A sad smile touches her face and she doesn't seem like she's going to answer.

Then she does that thing that he's seen her do so much since she showed up on the island yesterday. She takes a deep breath and makes her face different from what it just was. "That is Angie," she tells him.

Who's Angie? He doesn't ask but he wants to know.

She hands him a plate and says, "Why don't we sit down and talk? I'll tell you about Angie. You can tell me about you? We can get to know each other a little bit. Okay?"

Sounds scary to him but she's smiling at him. She's trying. He needs to try, too.

_I'm scared of lonely_

_And I'm scared of being the only shadow I see along the wall_

_**-x-b-e-l-x-**_

_And I'm scared of being alone_

* * *

**Whew. How do you all feel? Please, tell me. Help me keep this inspiration going! Help me finish this story! Please!**

**xxx-**

**Corey**


End file.
